She’s of Many Colours

girl-doing-makeup-in-mirror2It goes up in white clouds
Grouped individual but one
Every pat-pat against the face
Blows as powder
And shows as flower

She winces when it blows her
Its function is to hold her
When in public from the unknowing
Who would otherwise console her

She dabs down on brown
And slides it over evenly
There are grooves and bumps
She smoothes per touch
Careful, as she whimpers out ‘ouch’

She traces her eyes with black ink
Her lips were more to her skin
Now they part ways
Covered in red paste
Her brown locks recovered with a pin

She’s of many colours
That she masks with great skill
And though she mainly covers
In her eyes the pain still

She may tweek her cheeks
to a rosy blush
Veiling any streaks
with a cosy hush
No one could ever see
So they could never ask
Thus hiding any speak
of an unholy touch

That touch had her to the floor,
And to crimson knees
Defensive arms crossed
Begging for reprieve
Her crime she knew not
Her love as true as God
But she couldn’t understand
Why his eyes were green…

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I am trying

I am trying to understand how over

200 souls can be bought and sold,

sloshed then moulded. Their

emotions mutilated!

I am trying to understand the origins

of your cruelty, how their cry can be a

song of fulfilment in you.

I am trying your cruelty

as I see them with blood dripping

dripping down their nostrils.

I am trying to understand how you

can insert poverty in their mouths.

I am trying to understand how you

can create these permanent scars

and go sleep in your warm bed at night.

I am trying to understand their dusty

road, but every time I listen to their story,

you come then you slice,

chop and take away a piece of their lives.

I am trying to reach out my hands of love.

But every time I reach out I come across

your saliva, your brutality, your wickedness,

your unkindness!

Nobody punishes you for indiscretions,

for these poor souls die each day!

I am trying to understand your brutality

as I am praying for their healing.

I am trying to silence their cry

without being fragile.

I am trying to give them peace of mind

without falling into depression.

I am trying to feed them without

being hungry.

I am trying to quench their thirst

without creating a drought

I am trying to clothe them

without being naked.

I am trying to teach them and break

all barriers of ignorance.

I am trying to keep them safe without

being in danger.

I trying make them happy

teach them how to dance and shake

off their scars.

I am trying to hug them

I am trying to love them

To tell them its okay, give them that

shoulder to cry on and blow their frustrations away.

I am trying to understand how you

aren’t punished.

I am trying to understand how you can

hurt them with them with your knives and their

cry is a song satisfaction to you.

I am trying to chase you away but

every time I turn around you come

with your knife then you slice and chop

and take away a piece of their lives.

I am trying to show you that these are humans

and that they cannot be bought or sold with your

so called price tags you attach to them.

I am trying to show you not to hurt

them because you hurt their mothers too.

And if your mother were to find out what

you do them she will hurt too.

I am trying to open the gates so that

they can walk freely. During the day,

in the morning, at night without

being trapped in fear.

I am trying to wipe their tears, restore

their homes.

I am trying to open your eyes

and make you visualise what you are

creating.

Blood is spilled because of you.

Tears are shed because of you.

I am trying to open your eyes and

makes you visualise what you are creating.

Nothing but pain and permanent scars.

Open your eyes and see what you are creating.

– 2014

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