Sometimes, I'm not myself because of the things I've felt
I've tried being mad about the times that I've had
But at times like this, I need to believe
That there will be justice, a sense of reprieve.
When I'm not myself, sometimes there is no reason
At least not one that flows, from immediate woes
And then I detected that all are connected
An angel made me see, that everyone is me.
On me descends a deathly storm cloud of dark depression
I'm sensing the feelings of silent fear and desperation
A sweet little girl child, her innocence is temporary
About to be sold, abused, violated, broken constantly.
When my stomach it growls, for reasons unknown,
An infant near death, starvation, I'm shown.
The male with whose help, it entered the world
Long gone, a tornado, to more destruction he's twirled.
To think of myself as lucky, the saddest of thoughts
For though shamed, derided and thought of as naught,
I did go to school, and safely walked back home,
I did carry basins of water on my head alone.
I did have my daily gruel, nutrition optional
I did pass exams, studying by lantern and candle.
My body aches the words, "You still had it easy!"
This world, my gender, the thought makes me queezy.
The headaches they come, I'm frozen, immobile
A wife is pummeled, abandoned, a bloody pile
I reach out, a comforting whisper, she exhales her final breath
Being born female, an offence punishable by death.
Jumaii Joseph.
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