I knew I was once a captive
But I still am
On the verge of my echo
Which hands a ripple effect
Cosy but never rosy at the edge
Clinging to my sense of feeling.
Who can tell how many times it concurred?
With my past and now?
The populace it stole their minds,
Engrossed with pathetic thoughts?
Some had lived twice’ thrice in it
But the rest never quotes the picture it paints.
“I’ve been born twice” they alter
On the same earth we commute
Would you thank me if I said
I were your good and bad mystery?
Replay your memoir, See if I were true
So you’ll write again and remember today.
This poem was written last year, June. It’s rewritten today for reflection. meditate and reflect on what is and what next. Hope you had a graceful Saturday? Share what you’re thinking below. Thank you.
Dyna Ekwueme Copyright, 2015.