Ian Chronicles 1

Damn! Life! Life! Life! Life!
What did you want of me,ever wanted me to strive?
All those pathetic conditions you offered me,were they meant for me to survive?
I just want the reason why you brought me into this world,
You made me walk miles to school and my future curled,
Uniformless,bare footed on the scorching sun yet my head was bald,
But why did you inflict pain on my mama's face?
When Dad was nowhere to be found,why didn't you give her grace?
It really hurts me when I recall how I used to dress,
If my skin could talk,it would complain of surviving without any jelly,
When other kids enjoyed,I lived with two meals daily,
Some said I had kwashiorkor with the condition of my own belly,
As an african child I admired the school food,
The smallest coin was the pocket money that lightened my mood,
When others smiled,I held my tears whenever I could,
Ian meaning a gift from God but I never experienced it,
At the age of ten my teeth had never tasted any meat,
Still at twelve I didn't know how it feels to be neat,
I had no one to complain to yet I knew how to speak,
Those endless tears got used to my cheeks,
As a little kid everyday my mom taught me new survival tricks,

Whizz Ixtrinsic
(C) All Rights Reserved. Poem Submitted on 02/20/2021

Poet's note: 100%Based on my life story
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