Tag: poemblog

I grew up.
It means that I don’t dwell on what I cannot control:
emotions and feelings,
the abstract,
an opinion,
a mind-set.

It means I am not interested in trying to change
something — or someone — that can’t.
We yell about environmental disaster,
but we don’t care about it;
we care about our future.
I am not interested in selfish rhetoric.

Children run with guns
and kill other children,
yet there is no end to gun shopping.
I have grown up.
So I understand how controlling women’s bodies
is more important than gun control.

I studied literature.
I have read history.
I learnt the horrors that war can manifest.
But when I grew up,
I understood that there are Iagos in the world,
who revel in motiveless malignity.
The power of a weapon is the only thing
that can promote uneasy peace.

I yearned for liberation.
I walked the walks.
I talked the talks.
As I grew up, I realised:
the leaders who walked ahead
were pretending to be woke,
under the guise of their materialistic agendas.

I get quieter with the passing years.
I smile when I have things to say.
I know how to deal with my tears.
I grew up late and slow —
but on doing so, I have begun to question
every little thing I know.

I don’t know what tomorrow’s going to bring—
We make our plans, but they don’t always stick.
Life shifts the rules with barely any warning,
And things can go to hell real bloody quick.

I spoke to my sister of future affairs—
Who gets what, and where the lines are drawn.
But truly, who can say what’s fair or final
When fate might toss it all before the dawn?

Friendships I swore would last have cracked and faded,
Lovers I trusted left me worse than bare.
There’s no way to foresee the next betrayal—
Who’ll walk away, and who’ll pretend to care.

So here I sit and write upon the loo,
Aware no school will teach this sombre verse.
Yet if I sleep tonight and don’t awaken—
This poem won’t even earn a second curse.