Quiet whispers.
Tut tuts in the kitchen
The world is ablaze.
And we spit into the fire.
We all know what’s going on.
We know where we went wrong
But Lord help us should anyone know
Exactly where we stand.
Opinions watered down
In a sea of preferment.
You either dance to the song
Or sit yourself down.
No ones listening to your tune.
The death of our dreams lies in our apathy.
A programmed empathy only has one victim.
Yet we all bleed.
©bantugoddess 2014

I’ve been
An angel
Martyr
Temptress
Seducer.
Victim
Fighter
Rebel
Wounded.
My hearts yearned
Loved and lost.
Emptied
The roots of hate and despair
Have grown in these soils
I’ve been someone’s pride and joy;
Their shame.
My laughter’s rung through the silent nights.
Grappling the heart of an unsuspecting lover,
I bat my eyelids and they fell to the floor.
I walked past them and no one turned their heads.
A sea of contradiction.
A vault of experience ,
The journey not over.
I seek the title of
Loved!

©bantugoddess 2014