Marked

I wrote this a little while ago…while I was still trying my hands at poetry. I have since accepted my…

Damilola

May 6, 2014

I wrote this a little while ago…while I was still trying my hands at poetry. I have since accepted my fate- I am better at prose. 

But I like this one…It reminds me to keep smiling. No matter the scars. No matter what.

 

I wear you like the tribal marks of an Ibadan man.

You know those men that turn their faces away when they know the rest of the world is staring?

Yes those very ones.

They turn away from the world,

They turn the proverbial other cheek,

Forgetting that they are marked on both sides of life.

 

Any way I turn, I cannot escape you and the scars you have left on my soul.

 

I saw an Ibadan man  in the bus the other day.

His marks lined the dark canvas of his face

And I wondered if it had hurt

I wondered if it still hurt

 

I starred at his marks for the longest time.

I couldn’t help myself

He turned towards me and before I could turn away, he smiled.

 

It was the most beautiful smile ever.

Made more beautiful by the smiles someone had left permanently etched on his face

 

I smiled back and the scars you left me forgot how to be ugly.

 

Song of the day: Freshly Ground- Potbelly

  • Ibadan
  • Tribal Marks
  • Yoruba

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