Creative Writing Poetry

It was something I was suffering through
Which made me land down to the culture of untouchability.

It was a trigger of grief
that was manipulated by the spirit
to be injected in my entire life.

It drowned me in pale, depressed anguishes
where I was contemplating a stressful grace.

I was dead by expecting a hopeless life
As I was trapped in the cage of AIDS.
But I wasn’t encountered with that single belief
That turned my expectances upside and down.

She walked in
Energised with armoured emotions
To build an impact of liveliness and hope
Which I have sold to societal destiny.

She dominated all those societal remarks
In the view of being stolen by the years of her love.

She paced her steps
Placed herself besides me
And motivated me by her long embrace.

She broke the notions
She broke the bars.
Just for me
Just for my survival.

She assorted my touch as love
And not as an migratory infection.

She is the bandage to my wounds
Which made me harass the untouchability bars.

0 0 vote
Article Rating
Notify of
Inline Feedbacks
View all comments