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

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

Celebrating the “father of modern African literature”: Chinua Achebe

Today I join Google to celebrate Chinua Achebe's 87th birthday. Chinua is the father of modern African literature who with literature has touched many lives. Chinua Achebe was one of the greatest African writers of his generation. On what would have been his 87th birthday if he was alive, Google is paying its respects to Chinua Achebe on its homepage. Go to Google.com to view the doddle. Unarguably, Achebe’s influence on African literature is inestimable. He’s widely known to be the “father of modern African literature” with novels which projected Nigerian and African culture globally at a time when much of the continent was freshly free from the chains of colonialism. Chinua Achebe passed away March 2013 in the United States of America at the age of 82. The literary icon's journey to literary greatness started with ' Things Fall Apart ', which was his first book. It was released nearly 60 years ago in 1958 and regarded as one of the most widely read books in Africa. ...

Jaachi Writes

Search This Blog