Ghost To Myself

There’s many storms brewing

Yet, when I present myself to you,

I am as calm as the midday sea

I spend days fighting a never ending battle,

A war I have no chance at winning.

I pretend to be who I am not

Trapped and restrained the real me,

You’ve hurt me up so bad

Injuries they’re overwhelming,

I sit sulking away over a bottle of gin & pineapple juice

Though they do nothing to numb this pain;

I succumbed to my emotions.

My outward appearance seems strong

Yet, behind closed doors I am like a sponge submerged in water,

Reminiscing with tears as they lose grip of my water based eyes

Heaven knows I have grown weary of putting on this show,

I tire of the scenes I play

And the all too familiar cast I know,

Still, I await these curtains to come down

Putting an end to this un-going fiasco;

Maybe then I will have some closer.

© Xavier J. Frazer

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Its been awhile

Hey guys sorry for my absence, been extremely busy with life and all. I recently got married and I am currently working on two unfinished manuscript. But I will be posting poems, Bi-weekly starting tomorrow.

Lifeless

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She waits tirelessly for you
Led on by the false hope
that you reassure her by
She’s covered in scars
Scar’s that can’t be seen by the naked eye
She knows pain
excruciating pain
She’s battered and bruised by your lies
To the fact that she hides from the truth
Her heart its shattered beyond recognition
Emotionally, mentally, physically and spiritually
you tore her down
There’s no relief for the hurt she feels
Anaesthetic is useless when her soul is lifeless

Footprints

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I was told to put my best foot forward,
I did the opposite.
In order to do as i was told,
I had to reevaluate the past like the Sankofa bird.
The solution to the future lies there,
Though harsh.
Imagine not having clothes on our backs,
And by the crack of the whip,
We had to work from dawn till dusk,
Little to eat just enough to keep our stomachs warm.
Scars decorating our bodies,
Each exquisitely carved like fine art,
Polished and shined in blood.
With all the odds against them,
They proudly and boldly smile,
Giving praises all the time.
They,
My,
Our ancestors endured so much for us,
To be free,
To be independent,
To be emancipated from mental slavery.
Instead materialism as gotten us going crazy,
Greed as taken its toll,
Having us purchasing our shackles and chains at the stores.
Blind sighted by the lies,
Like a crack fiend,
We want more.
This generation is lost,
Not even a sign of promise that we will find our way.
We line up for a few measly pairs of Jordans and iPhones,
Plugged into the matrix that’s eating our souls.
Undernourished brains,
Stimulated by fabricated nourishment.
Addicted to taking selfies,
Being Facebook famous is our only goal,
Still we can’t organise to take back our thrones,
Kings and queens we were back home.
And still some wonder why I reminisce,
Filled with nostalgia for our humble beginnings,
While surrounded by earthly riches
And all the silver & gold,
That can be found in Rome.