Gossip is the acid that burnt their tongues

And my name mentioned

Over and over

And the less content

Of selves

Suit up in union for judgement

And like jail cells

That caged the untameable

I cage the rage

That grew in my tummy

No kinder word said

No time like the present

They envy my presence

Such stir and slurs of crowds of

It’s ‘her’

Lipped in a bitter tone

And cheap remarks followed by roll of a dozen eyes

Like one who has reached the pacing streets of ecstasy, her eyes roll, and she enjoys the contentment of the situation

But her face bears the ugliest expression

The roll of the eyes; back, forward, stop

Back, forward


The pupil stares back

Empty as black

And brown disappeared from the eyes

 – Written by Aisha Mohammed *AISHA MD* 

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