A Risen Enigma
Among the wounded and underrated entities,
Lies an enigma,
Handsome, softhearted but torn,
This is wrecking havoc in my soul.
The Nigerian society made me,
But I forged my fists and spine with a steel,
To withstand and defend against a coup de grâce,
And also conquer religion and politics.
They are watching but can't feel my pain,
And the bleeding on my wounded sensibilities,
Because I smell so good in a dirty water,
Flowing to the next chapter of my life.
Cloaked by insecurities, fears, and intimidation,
All I'm doing is to make a living out of the tawdry life the society gave me,
Today, I love the way you sit there,
And barely notice me at all when I rise.
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