Skip to main content

Nobody Knows The Real Me


Nobody knows how many times

I've sat in my room and cried out my eyes. 
How many times I've lost hope 
and contemplated suicide. 
Nobody knows... Nobody knows how many times 
I've been let down, delayed, betrayed, 
bereaved, disappointed, hurt...rejected,
tagged a clown.

Nobody knows how many times 
I've had to hold back teas, 
how many times I've felt like 
I'm about to snap but didn't, 
just for the sake of the few 
that cherish a bit of me like desert to dew.

Nobody knows the thoughts 
that have gone through my head 
whenever I'm sad, 
and how horrible they really are.
Nobody knows my pain
and how tears I rain
in the dead of the night.

Nobody knows
that behind the smiles
that masks my face
is a deep groan
a broken heart
a sad man
a solitary sage.

Nobody knows the real me
been beaten down, battered and bitter
yet stays in the light.

Nobody knows the real me
that holds on to hope
though I lose grip
of the joy I once know.

Nobody knows
Do you?

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Fiction | The Tripod Effect

THE TRIPOD EFFECT The Smiths were unable to conceive children and decided to use a surrogate father to start their family. On the day the surrogate father was to arrive, Mr. Smith kissed his wife and said, "I'm off. The man should be here soon" Half an hour later, just by chance a door- to-door baby photographer rang the doorbell, hoping to make a sale.  "Good morning, madam. I've come to...." "Oh, no need to explain. I've been expecting you," Mrs. Smith cut in. "Really?" the photographer asked. "Well, good. I've made a speciality of babies"  "That's what my husband and I had hoped. Please come in and have a seat"  After a moment, she asked, blushing, "Well, where do we start?"  "Leave everything to me. I usually try two in the bathtub, one on the couch and perhaps a couple on the bed. Sometimes the living room floor is fun too; you can really spread out!" "Bathtub, living room floo...

Letter To My Son

Dear Son Try to forget that nothing waits in the dark, raise your shoulder high wave off the frea and step into that lane. Won't you rather be gone in there than stay out here playing the coward? Get up now, son everyone falls. #Pengician #SSA http://bit.ly/2haEhoj

RIP: Return If Possible (Ode to my High School crush)

She would wink at me from the corner of her eyes. She would dare to slap the tallest in my class if he dares bully me for penning his name in my list of noise makers. She would share her pen  when mine is spent. She would help me take notes when sick I lay in bed. She played my advocate  even when I least deserve it. Her height, though intimidating earned more of my admiration. Her fingers Her palms though long and bold compared to my petite own were my favourite to hold. She was loud and noisy not never made the list. She would speak Igbo and wink 'you dare not write my name' Her drawings, I did when others I snub. JSS 3 to SSS 1 I crushed on this pretty girl But I was too shy to ink that poem. I left without letting you know how much I care. Had no time to appreciate your kind gestures undeserved defense... You were my crush. Augusta, When I found first Facebook you were the first I searched to add... In vain I searched  You were not found. I stalked the walls of our cl...