Broken Poem by Blessing Kalamatila

If she was a colour, she would be blue,
broken on the inside with no desire to start anew, she was the bearer of bad news and started to believe her existence was defined by unaldeterated sorrow with no hope for a superordinate tomorrow.

With her pride stolen at a tender age, she was the composer of her life story so she had no one to help her start up a new page, her heart full of enmity and no room for love as she believed it was all a myth, left with no one to fight this cruel world with.

Not sure what armor to put on, she battled her way out of adolecense, she waited for her sunny day but the light from the sun was as indistinct as that of a fluorescent.

She was on the rolercoaster of emotions spinning right through her mind that at that time couldn't comprehend the structure of her emotional spectrum.

Venomous by the sting of pain, she grew herself to hate, believing that the hands of time hold her terrible fate.