Pastoral
Not our lives but the wares we sell,
Not our faces but our masks,
Not our own voices, not our real bodies,
Not our names, but the brands we bear.
What we become in a vast alien time
Is how we are known to our fellows.
Not what we are but what we show,
Not our deep needs, not our real fears,
Not as we hurt but as we are hailed.
All we parade in the vast alien time,
All we have polished up for sale,
As if we are pieces of earthenware.
Copyright © Nwando Obianyor | Year Posted 2007
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment