written by: Leonard Ifeanyi Ugwu, Jr.
My poems are taboo for men,
they are empty voices
echoing in naked places,
from a heartbroken pen.
I had written with my blood,
I had penned with my bones,
but I remain a passing flood
splashing as they throw stones.
Mum said poems are worthless,
dad said poems are penniless,
I’m left wandering in the wilderness of wild
where I might return with torn dreams untied.
There are no medals, no crowns, no accolades and no validation,
just me and my miserable ink for twelve years walking into extinction,
someone save me from these miserable cages of self-deprecation
which my wife said might lead me to self-destruction.
If you bless my craft spontaneously,
I’ll bless many tears wearing my shoe,
they deserve a voice enormously
in a dream like mine which they passionately pursue.
After today and I see nothing, I’ll fight my muse,
what’ll happen next shall no longer be news,
but no matter what happens in the ocean of ages,
I’ll never depart the face of this earth with blank pages.
Leonard Ifeanyi Ugwu, Jr.
Latest posts by Leonard Ifeanyi Ugwu, Jr. (see all)
- Blank Pages - January 4, 2023
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- The Street - February 2, 2021