He Won't Bend - Stefn Sylvester Anyatonwu

POEM 144: HE WON'T BEND

It's easy to tell the bereaved how not to cry

when the death of his loved one is your design.

It's easy to hush the hungry kid

and deny him his sweet biscuit

when in your hand is that same whip

that flogged his father to his grave.

You tell him, 'look, you can't be brave'

He shrinks,

He sighs,

He paints the sky with teary eyes

and wonder why father couldn't break your arms.

It’s a different song when everything’s wrong,

When this beaten son is feeling infernally mortal;

when it’s ten against one,

and hope there is none,

When he casts the chips down,

and dance the dance

Buckle up!

This little soldier shall charge at you

with placards and a fiery plea

Even your whip, though flung at him,

Shall toughen his skin and feed his will

With that same craving lions have for flesh.

He may not survive your envious whip

But he won't bend to your whim

No he can't.

He'll bring you down
six feet below his father

- Stefn Sylvester Anyatonwu

#365DaysOfPoetry

#Pengician

#SSA

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