The prey
Front page has recorded our names. 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 rain ing 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 Previous post Click here to read other poems from the same author previous post Photo credit: pexel