My struggle is not seen by the inner circle
Even the population around me have no testimonies of it
Despite my inner war and battle
I pommel the self not to speak
My identity hate the expression of my passion
There are foods for my passion around me
l salivate, yearn and desire it
But the lock of training, the caution of the elder
And the religion l accepted,
Taking fight with my inner devil
I query my identity, right or wrong
Its drive me nuts especial that they are always in my face
I always asked if it is a forbidden fruit.
Some say, it has a blessing and another say there is a curse
It make my ways lonely, shattered and confuse sometimes
I am dying with my passion, the choice l love is not what i desire
AM I slave to passion?
Judge me, l need the truth
Except you want my passion to take the driver seat, a matter of time
BABAJIDE AINA
July 4th,2020, Saturday 3: 45 am.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem