Lay me down at your will
Speak to me, I am still
Breathe on my behalf my wails
Retell of my story, my tales
Discarded from society, disdained
Too hideous to emerge, maimed
Heart moans on my countenance appear
Mind battles the unspoken years
In chests frame, hidden
In tearful casing, ridden
A martyr of the living
A sacrifice of the willing
Consented to appear of class
Broken inside my eyes of glass
Stature and position I disguise
Shell frail I am delicate inside
My requirement, to dress this attire
Of which my person need not mire
Position myself in replications realm
My recitations from expectations helm
Fragmented I remain undone
Incoherent my coherent enchants no one
Politely obliging to the lofty crowd
Me, myself and I solemnly vowed
Hidden is the reality, unknown
Buried is the unseen, on par alone
My role I play to societies glee
My me, My I, my person no longer me
Salwa Samra © 2013
All rights reserved. Reproduction in whole or part without permission is prohibited.
About the Creator
Salwa Samra
Salwa Samra is a New Zealand-born, Australian Lebanese author, poet, cultural critic & investigative researcher, anchored in a Christian biblical worldview, shaped by a profound reverence for poetry, history, philosophy and relevance.
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