BOYS, NOT STONES
Hand me a bowl
So my tears will rise and lie,
Hinder me not to crawl,
So my legs will rest and not die,
Hold me, let's sail,
So my soul won't leave before my time.
Hear me, dear world!
I am the crying vapour in the wind,
Lure me into those warm bed,
I am just like you, not immune to cold,
Don't hand me the cross, I am not lord
I am only a heir that also need a head.
This cage is too small to bring comfort,
Let me talk, stop killing me with praise,
How to ignore pain is all I was taught,
To draft my death and never hide,
Give my being a time to rest,
Wandering and wandering yet morning won't come.
The righteous preyed on me, till my body turned pale
The world smile at me and watch me sink,
I must not retire even when I'm sick,
Please spare my gourd when your mouth move,
For i was called super; a name that kills quick,
Hear my cry, O' you that boast you love,
My wound bleeds yet I am told to cover its mark.
I wish I am allowed to live,
To be natural and encourage to be emotional,
I wish to fly, free from this heating cage,
For I am a son not sun's soul,
Tell the world boys ain't stone,
They should be embraced and taught to feel.
©Yusuf Muyibat Avosuahi
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