To The Stars I Worship


Had to apply cooking oil
To a mask I wore to school.
Price of lotion rendered me
To an unsympathetic sun.

Learnt to roll my sleeves
To please a victimized mother,
And a promiscuous father
That demanded respect.

Mother gave me a mind;
An appetite for unlikely odds.
Since I was born,
I have been fighting for things.

I saw things that hardened me;
Ran out of tears at age thirteen.
Almost latched onto a familiar cycle;
An air bus saved me.

Privilege became right,
And I forgot to thank the stars I worship.
For watching down on me,
I love you between nine and ten.

©HerbertUba 2017

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