Sad generation, we are called.
Smiling brightly,
Yet dying inside.
Hidden scars and bottled emotions
Tell a tale of life’s rough motions.
We jubilantly traverse corridors.
Tears roll as we bolt doors.
We are clowns
Trapped in our own circus,
Swirling in life’s constant battles.
Every morning is subtle with faces,
Peddled in different places.
We fear they will laugh at our ugly side,
So, we do our best to hide.
This poem was published in the 12th Issue of PoeticAfrica magazine.
Please click here to download.
More Poems:
Masks – Mohammed Yusuf (Nigeria)
All Things that are Not – Salihu Aminu (Nigeria)
Mziki Wetu Afrika – Mayombya Doreen (Tanzania)
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Comments
This is a great poem, expressing the deeper side of a self hidden from the world.
The imagery is strong and vivid. Unfortunate, this is the world we live in today; they laugh at someone dying and seeking for help yet write long elegies and eulogies after you are gone.