My Critique - Poem by Abdulhakim Haliru
Split between two,
I yearn for you to understand,
Yet you paint my imperfection
Making a jest of my imperfection.
My pain so so immense
Reminiscent of your joy
My plea for pardon only strike the deaf side of you
Does your ken unveil my morrow?
When my imperfection yield perfection?
When you hold a blunt knife?
You call my err blunt
And your err oversight
With my wet eyes, seeking your consciousness
Yet it is me you paint.
O you of little ken
Spare me some air
Behold I change my colour.
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