Otha Gwabe Poems

Am I broken
Going insane
Has my path been chosen
Or maybe have a broken brain
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We see thieves in shackles,
Murderers in ball and chains,
Human traffickers in manacles,
Torturers strapped in reins…
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Writing poetry helps find the voice for my thoughts I can't say
Helps express all the feelings I don't allow myself to embrace
Most of them are dark, I'll admit
But it shows my true emotion when I'm writing it
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Holding in emotions
Rapid churning in motion
Tumbling down in a twirl
Going round in a whirl
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Help! I'm shaking
Help! I'm quaking
I feel my blood boiling
I feel my body tensing
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I see you
I hear you
But no voice is heard
We speak but not with words
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Sitting in classes,
Hiding in shadows,
Running fast, my being flashes,
Making sure I stay low…
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This is the way
The story of everyday
The same old heat
Same old rhythm, same old beat
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Wandering around as a child
Born with an innocent mind
Running about with energy
Looking with curiosity
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The light rises in the morn'
It shows more than you know
All enjoy to see the light
For ahead a journey bright
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