Egypt Of My Old Days | Symon Maguru

On a run that seemed so long — cut short —
I felt abandoned by those who birthed me.
Spending tireless days weeping
Under the hand that once tamed me
Now turned away and inflicting bruises.

I could call him Rameses
For countless back stabs he inflicted
On my bleeding body.
He drank all my milk and honey.
A bee inside a housefly skin!

He chastised me for crimes I knew not
Peeled me limb to limb like a potato
Roasted me on fire, knowing I’d be cooked
And cast grievous curses on me.
Decades later he danced to tunes of my victory.

Like iron ore, his iron smith hands
Carried me, summoned fire all over me,
Knowing not Goliath’s dagger was being crafted.
Decades after his curse, victory prevailed
Recalling the day I became a man at twelve.

Under the wrath of his majesty Rameses
A new dawn arose.
Wounds heal but scars remain
If only I had a script writer
To translate the Egypt of my old days.

Poet's note: EGYPT OF MY OLD DAYS is a poem based on a Personal experience, capturing what I passed through at a certain age. Staying with a relative who treated me badly so upon returning home my Dad said, "You were indeed in Egypt" referring it to how Israelite's were saved from EGYPT to CANAAN. That painful past dragged me into writing a Poem, bringing imaginations of that old character (me) into a literature work.