Upon the stage of life, a solemn play,
I danced within the confines of his will.
Each bruise a mark of love turned to dismay,
Yet silence bound me tighter, cold and still.
The chains of expectation held me tight,
A prisoner to the whispers of the crowd.
Religion’s grip, a shadow in the night,
A shroud that stifled every cry aloud.
I feared the judgment of the eyes that watched,
Their gaze a weight upon my weary soul.
Yet still, I wore the mask, though pain was botched,
And bled in silence, hidden from control.
Each day, I patched my wounds with trembling hand,
A martyr to the cause of love gone sour.
My spirit shattered, like a grain of sand,
Yet still, I bore the weight of my own hour.
From today my story will echo through the years,
A warning to the hearts that dare to break.
For though I smiled, my eyes betrayed my fears,
A shattered vessel, for love’s cruel sake.
© Ifedolapo Ogunniyi
2024
Ifedolapo Ogunniyi 