By me:
Of how I marvel at what one may sense to see themselves not who they are
The strain of life weighing on their stomachs, thighs and arms
To be unaccompanied and elapsed, in one’s scruples
To see their body, pallid and sallow, twice of what its size
Depleting one’s vigor and that which could appetize!.!.!.
And then the darkness surfaces
How can one sleep with that perpetual grumbling, disgruntled
Fate…
How can one discern feeling!?
With the incessant starvation
And refutation
I lie awake
And wake
To unearth my body corpulent, hideous
To see my mother’s face
When she ‘saunters’ by my room
Am I that much of a disgrace!?
Then befalls ‘the talk’
My hair is falling
My eyes are bloodshot
My mother bawling…
Why did I have to suffer this fate!?
The everlasting challenge to look
My blood is on their hands
And I shed tears with all the emaciated girls, and boys!.!.
Why cannot we be poles apart!?
I bid you goodbye!.
For nothing is left of this gaunt, emaciated fate!.!.!.Www@QuestionHome@Com