Slaughtered Self-Esteem
Maybe, wrongly,
But I tell you, strongly,
I’m beginning to reckon
That to one we often beckon,
We our self-esteem erode,
And our flesh corrode,
And the very guy goad,
To on our shoulders drop a load,
Weighing a thousand grams of neglect,
And another of disrespect,
Any soul should last expect …
With its awful content one can’t inspect.
How does one now smiles beam,
With a slaughtered self esteem,
Promising only twists and turns,
And a belly that’s tightly churns?
Copyright © Chinedum Ekwobi | Year Posted 2021
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