SAVE ME FROM ME

I’ve lived three scores and more
Many who saw my birth did me, like all infants, adore
Great expectations were their wishing chore
Till youth showed me a drunken flirt and a colonial sore

II
Some kept hoping I’ll myself reform
Others thought they’d seen how hopelessly relaxed I was as I conform
Some thought there will be nothing more to my form
Today I live an old, sold to the cold stares of failures dorm

III
I can blame my arbitrary parents who forced my existence
I can blame my weak mother who laid to be raped without resistance
I could blame my siblings whose powers lack definite insistence
I could blame my earth with wealth but no physical affluence

IV
Still, I live a failure who has not walked well for a day
Still, I remain a dumb who has not spoken well for a day
Still, I remain a deaf who has not listened to anything anyone has to say
Still, I remain an adult toddler unliked and kept at bay

V
How do I remedy this?
How can I so this fix?
Will stooging one day lead to my bliss?
Do I still focus on the foreign kiss?

VI
I must rise to walk
I must be bold to talk
I must be brave to hex the stalk
I must attend to the screaming of my chalk

VII
I must see the best in my lot
I must think of the new in my cot
I must push the strength in my slot
I sure must rip off this trap in which I have been caught, to buy me from brutes who have sold me for their superior’s bought
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © November 23, 2021