My bread was anguish and my water tears, at least the rich get to suffer in comfort
Nobody noticed me when I
killed myself a little,
cus there was no blood for the evidence
that I slowly died a long time ago.
Nobody noticed me when I trot a thousand dusty miles
I Bore my afflictions with a patient mind.
The scorching sun was always on me while I dug for my daily bread, my bones cried but no one heared her
My heel begged for rest,
I couldn't count the blisters
my heart still beating but dead for years.
My dreams turned Nightmare
I woke up countless times to pray the rosary.
it was an anthem in my soul.
I still keep the pace
cus I know I'm gon win the race.
Emmanuel jmk Ezendu
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This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem