Still monster
We have been silent about this pain for so long,
Yet our generations might be endangered by it,
Our scientists talk about it once in a while,
But we don't listen, it's the motionless monster.
This monster is in my car, in my food,
On my clothes, on my floor so is the walkway,
On my walls and lives with me.
This poison I consume with a smile not knowing that,
It can wipe out my very existence.
Mother Nature has felt its wrath too,
It sits on top of the soil and cannot be absorbed,
So it's easily redistributed into the air over and over.
Will I make it to my fortieth birthday?
When my skin change and hair starts to fall off,
When my lungs start to fail and coughing,
Becomes my form of exhaling,
And eventually I have shortness of breath,
Yet the air is where the monster sleeps.
My kidneys will fail and my throat,
My brain will slowly shut down,
The gallbladder cannot function,
And the body becomes weak,
When my voice box gives in to silence,
And I can longer sing of hope.
So tell me what is this still monster called ASBESTOS,
That is resistant to heat, fire, chemicals and
Electricity can't destroy it either,
And can bring cancer when am a sleep,
Leaving me lifeless.
I wish am breathing in the laughter, tears, successes,
Aches, passions, thoughts, memories, joy, survival
And the shades of sunlight on many natures of skin,
Instead of this monster that I can't fight.
Is this poison another medical condition,
That I am silently taking in,
Is there hope in my breathing?
Where are the answers and the solutions?
Poetry by Wamaitha
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Written on 2015-04-24 at 07:43
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Jamsbo Rockda |
josephus |
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by Wamaitha Latest textsSpace of silenceThree years on inked ache my blue lost |
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