NOT PAIN


 The house sat, hinged on

fragile peace;

tension, thick enough to

be sliced, pulsates

as each steps cautiously around,

afraid of waking the devil

beneath each heart.


Smiles that do not reach the eyes,

laughter that simply couldn't 

penetrate 

through the onions of pain,

bounces off the hollow

and cracking walls.


Pain metamorphoses into anger

and anger chameleons

resentment.

Trust flew out the window

as suspicions

entertain themselves.


Lurking beneath hooded eyes,

fears of the inevitable

lies hidden;

nightmares of the dusky shadows

mocks sanity.

She never belong, she knows.


Nostalgia of Mother spills

yet, in her heart of hearts,

she knew Mama would

never understand.

She will thrust her own 

child away into 

the clawlike grips of strangers;

Her ears are deaf to the cries 

and sobs of her own blood.


©Hannah Damilola Ojo

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