I want to be a mirror
That reflects the world we dwell
I might be looked down on
And called names
Though philos-man orated I have no place in the society
Because I am always in the image of others
Joy be met if I mirror their eerie thoughts.
In school, friends may jeered
Snared and sneered
They might think they would be better
Because they wore long faces
Longer than their robes
With mountain of books in armpit
Joy be met if I mirror their eerie thoughts.
Brothers some cups of blood may lost
And stylists style sisters seriousness with wigs
Shout they may when hush need
Hush when shout should
Desecrate holiness of our space
Joy be met if I mirror their eerie thoughts.
And on the day of the gods
Fire-stick flickered as its carrier ran the arena
Our procession pitched with our doggerelic chants
Beyond spec's suspicions and
Sway in heavenly delights
Joy be met if I mirror their eerie thoughts.
To mirror I chose
All day I would
Evil hands might lurked
And space becomes abattoir
Hunting its own
Joy be met if I mirror their errie thoughts
Even in my solitary station
Beneath the crust.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem