- IN A CIRCLE OF WOMEN -
i wear the face of those who've loved
who've tied shoelaces on
tiny
unsuspecting
feet
by dawn
by dusk
mothers who tell tales of being left alone
i wear the face of the scorned
of nights wrapped in patchworks of anxiety
sewn together unsteadily
the last remains of their fragility
when no one remembers their dignity
responsibility grows silent
claiming ignorance
ever ambivalent
i wear the face of lies
these the eyes
of tired hearts growing jaded with time
marked. worn. torn
until even to themselves they become the unknown
i wear the face of the beaten
the abandoned
of those who cant stand it
the replaced - this is that face
this is the face of those who hide behind wounded smiles
this is the face of their cries
for the way in which they carry the burden with such style
the downsized
stigmatised
i wear the face of rape
of those who cannot escape
who make do with the crushing fist of darkness
suffocating
lying diminished. finished. in corners
when they force us
they who i stand among
are those who've long bit their tongues
a galaxy of songs that will never be sung
they who befriend only shame
when it happens again. and again. and again
and again
i wear the face of pain
the scars of a howling anger that became a flame
and if you look closely into the lines
you will see the signs
every instance of stolen essence
everytime we were denied
if you look closely into the lines
you will see a strength yet undefined
this is the face of the weak
the all too often too meek
when they should speak
this is the face of those who will be freed
the face of the forgiving
the still ever willing
who in a barrage of names
stand facing east
a sunrise that declares
there will be change
i wear the face of my reality
i wear the face of a nation.
and i give birth to tomorrow.
