How We Become Lost Isles | Stefn Sylvester Anyatonwu

POEM 233: HOW WE BECOME LOST ISLES
like a sea ice-coated
heated arguments trample one against the other

I'm right
you're wrong
when I'm right, what's left?

Uncertainties?
it's not for you to worry!

What ifs?
so what? I'm not sorry!

words fly
I'm thrown off balance with punchlines
the ice are melting
under the heat of silent vents

soon the isle shall sink
into the abdomen of the sea

soon we both shall lie invalid on sickbed

Hurt

Apart

Misunderstood

Buried six feet under past

#365DaysOfPoetry
#Pengician
#SSA

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shy, a poem

bashful, timid, quiet. shy If anyone you know has used these terms to describe you, you're probably a bit shy. Everyone feels that way once in a while. Shyness and social anxiety are common, no matter how old you are. There is one myth about social anxiety and social anxiety disorder that I would like to dispel. The myth says that social anxiety is just exaggerated shyness. This myth encourages the idea that anxious people are merely weak-willed pushovers. It is partially because of this myth, I think, that well-intentioned people offer the relevant but insensitive and patronizing advice like, “Don’t worry about it!” , “Just do it” and “Face your fears.” Thinking on all these, I wrote this poem: shy when a shy person speaks, it's like music from guitar strings. when a shy person smiles, it’s like the sun coming out when a shy person steps out it's like the uncommon visit of gods when a shy person reclines it feels like moon eloped from night when a shy person is 'i

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For Leah Shabiru - Stefn Sylvester Anyatonwu

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