The prey
Calling on every ages and sames;
Even our hunted males .
For monthly food lames.
We've been served fat,
Rich in wealth of mucor and salt,
Garnished for their gluttonous fill
Not a game but for fame.
Ghosting our daily bread
In exchange for famished tears
Covering the ground in raining fears
Our cold heart seeks of a restorer of years
We are their scorn,
The scorn is disgust,
The disgust is employed,
The employed is paid,
The paid becomes their prey.
Ayeni Taiwo
©2022
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Comments
This poetry is a voice that calms the masses and sheild the heart closer to reality and how to survive through it.
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