PHASES

These days that add to me steal from me

I was a whole moon now crescent

A prominent face of innocence

Hassled by an ugly world left barely decent.

I must be a descendant of pain

The rain knows me by name

And told these dark clouds to hover over my head

Just to shower my shame.

And though my finger points at all but me

It is I who is to blame.

I am afraid.

Standing in the middle of myself scared to look around

Tip toeing around my conscience too scared to make a sound

A pound of my flesh for each tragedy told

Another pound still for the hurt

Now ain’t I a sight to behold!

Yesterday has grown cold

The ice keeps melting into my flesh

Seeping through my pores

Saturated with blood oozing from my chest.

I cannot thresh black from white

And so I’m stuck with the grey

The me I was stands in a distance

From the me that I am today.

But these days that steal from me add to me

I am a crescent forming into a full moon

An eminent evidence of growth

A butterfly to emerge from this cocoon.