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Abraham Esang Oct 2017
I wanna begin this off with I'm sad for everything that I did

got on your every single nerve when I was a child

played with some of your feelings

pushed each and every catch

be that as it may, there was never a period where you didn't demonstrate to me a mom ma's loving

there's kin out there that has never held their mom's hand

I'm sufficiently blessed to state you helped shape me into a man

indeed, even in the most wiped out of well being

you still dependably put us before yourself

I was excessively youthful, making it impossible to perceive the amount you needed to give up

long days

longer evenings

at work simply wanting to be home during the evening

I realized that you didn't generally have additional cash to pay a sitter

since regular that momma went to work

every one of us children would run with her

none of us at any point truly minded

it got every one of us to spend a tad of family time

you generally dealt with us kids transforming each house into a home

giving every one of us something that we could call our own

I realized that I was sheltered with you I never needed to stress

since on the off chance that I at any point required you

you were in that spot in a rush

in the event that there was a mother of the year grant

you would be the one

I would never truly thank you for everything that you've done

I truly am advantaged to have a mother like you

no mother could ever come close with everything you do
Abraham Esang Oct 2017
Death showed me how to dress.

it says "not that one, these shoes rather, somewhat less dynamic and somewhat more meek, more

modesty, less certainty."

Death showed me not to wear hoodies, to keep my head revealed, to wear light hues

rather than dull in light of the fact that I am sufficiently dim as of now

to purchase a belt for some jeans I possess, even better, to not wear pants,

death showed me how to do my hair, it says "less curl, more typical, straighter, longer,

more slender," it consumes my scalp and gives me a brush and says "isn't it decent to run your

fingers through it now,"

Death showed me who to like, what music to tune in to, how to keep individuals agreeable,

instructions to walk; "don't limp, straight shoulders, however remain littler than them,"

it showed me my vocabulary, the majority of the enormous words that gain me honors, for example, 'verbalize,'

'dislike whatever remains of them,' 'a great one,'

Death is continually instructing me to be less, less American, more African , an appreciated expansion, a

token, to reveal myself and strip myself of any weapons, any dangers

Death is a x-beam machine, and says in the event that I do anything incorrectly, it will come

as though I'm not kicking the bucket to myself as of now

Death says "what an opportunity to be alive."

since in this nation, Black is imperceptible
Abraham Esang Oct 2017
The woods ...

... where the snowstorm blows

......where the rain is sudden

...........where the trees have arms that span in and ****** at life

..............where the mists sprinkle and move

...................where the owl sat as a watchman as we settled beneath the stars

........................where the breeze mumbles tribal mantras

.............................where the greenery conceals a huge number of sins

................................where the animals be-companion solitary **** Sapiens

...............where the way twists up and into and over and liberates the lost


I've seen the woods…

… ..and I sit alone

… .… and the quiet is all

… and the ears hear just the leaves falling

… and the morning light comes in streams

… ..and the undergrowth scents of ages past

… ..and the creek sings a despairing song

… and the hawk leaves a shadow upon our tangled dreams

… .… and the growths pay respect to the cycle of life

… and blooms come into bud

… ..and I've felt every one of its favors… and felt its rot


I am the backwoods…

… .it inhales underneath my skin – whispering breeze

… .… it races through my veins – prospering waterway

… .… it houses the owl – isolated home

… ..it whispers to the towns – lost heritage

… ..… it develops contorted roots from the dirt of my yearning - verdant rot

… ..it discovers life inside my folds – rising sapling

… it spreads an overhang over my casing – memory's shadow

… .it mumbles to the hearkening ear – achieving bark

… I've felt the excursion inside its ignored heart … it offers elegance to the lost
Abraham Esang Oct 2017
In the event that I was allowed to do as I wish

I would hold you and grasp you

your body against mine

I would feel your glow and your torment

your distress and satisfaction


I would take your face inside my hands

What's more, tenderly kiss your feelings of dread away

I would take your weakness

what's more, put it in my heart.

On the off chance that I was allowed to do as I wish

I would grab this minute and cherish you until the end of time
Love
Abraham Esang Oct 2017
They say with time it shows signs of improvement

33 years despite everything I'm still waiting

I battle, I cry, I shout

I'm still waiting


I wake up hesitant to open my eyes

Hesitant to begin my day

Apprehensive who or what will trigger it

Apprehensive consistently

I'm still waiting


I'm hesitant to exit the entryway

Apprehensive of who is out there

Apprehensive of what will happen

Apprehensive that I can't get away

I'm still waiting


I'm hesitant to close my eyes

Apprehensive of what I will see, hear

Anxious of what I will dream

Anxious of shouting

Anxious I won't wake up in time

I'm still waiting


I'm hesitant to begin another day

I'm still waiting
Abraham Esang Oct 2017
These kids were guaranteed a superior life. Some picked up this.

This is the narrative of the numerous who did not. It is told from a girl's perspective.

No bitterness filled our adolescence days, my folks did their best to raise

their posterity in a climate of care.

We knew they both were English conceived, transported from an existence miserable,

ousted into a halfway house stark.

A stage they'd needed to repudiate, so till this day we had not known

what they and different transients needed to endure.

A mission by some for reward implied ventures to conclusion could start,

with governments and individuals more mindful.

For tribulations of the past, 'Conciliatory sentiments' have come finally

to casualties whom society denied.

Overlooked once they'd left their field, this descendants of country's poor,

no follow up to perceive how they'd survived;

no enthusiasm for these adolescents' predicament – put out of mind when beyond anyone's ability to see –

the balm of greener fields very much plotted.

Two issues understood by their expel. To help grow, the English fashioned

an arrangement affirmed and shrewdly thought up.

For individuals attempting to survive – no aid to keep their young alive –

this offer appeared the solution to their supplication.

They marked their kids to the plan, surrendering to bait of dream,

"They'll 'ave a superior possibility at life down there."

One hundred thousand crossed the ocean, far from home and family

entangled into the predetermination they'd share:

for probably the first time they'd gone, at that point they were lost, quite recently throw away like deny hurled,

also, the individuals who endeavored to contact them confronted give up.

Survival turned out to be lifestyle, these kids compelled to endure strife

created codes of comradeship to bond.

The feeling of mate ship loaned relief, simply small solace to soothe

the weight of facade that each had wore:

for expulsion to south of Earth persuaded them that they had no worth,

conveyed questions and fears excessively crude, making it impossible to ascend past.

Their stoic activities planned to conceal feelings covered somewhere inside -

the requirement for affection, with nobody to react.

The injuries of the evenings alone, far from all that they had known,

apprehensive and detached, set apart,

while during that time of steady drudge at dairy tasks and working soil,

depleted youngsters combat from the begin.

What sins had brought deserting? No news from family or letters sent,

as mail was screened for wrongs it may confer.

Unpaid-for work, benefit based, saw fundamental tutoring soon deleted -

overlooked, similar to the torment inside the heart.

The stories that were never heard, mishandle by discipline and word,

the pole of iron used to keep control

by gatekeepers yet inadequately instructed, responding to their dread, troubled,

lost, and very unsuited to their part.

Cruel hardship ruled through ruthless measures unexplained

to kids deprived of poise. Some stole

the remainders of their confidence with acts more unsafe than disregard -

debased *** that wracked the very soul.

Too long kept secured, concealed ills, with fear and blame such wrongdoing imparts –

refusals, casualties frightened, staying stupid.

Presently at long last the quiet breaks, affirmation of past oversights

uncovering embarrassments unbelieved by a few.

Oh dear, my Father's not any more here. Those times of hardship and of dread

had made his psyche and body capitulate.

In any case, Mum is remaining close by, she's stood up, reestablished some pride,

she's demonstrated the valor that can overcome.

To state we're sad's only a begin to alleviate unsettling influence of the heart.

No word, or deed, or store can adjust

for absence of home and family rights, for work-filled days and dread filled evenings -

this token is too little come past the point of no return.

But my mom feels finally, through acknowledgment of the past

- contrition for the disgrace that was their destiny -

that injuries now cleansed and opened wide, not left to putrefy somewhere inside,

may mean her tormented bad dreams can subside.

Overlooked youngsters - youth lost, still scarred and hurt, awful cost,

spurned, banished, and by all scolded.

To push forward's their exclusive course, on past lament and profound regret,

the revulsion of their childhood should now be recorded.

Bad form has been exposed. My mom's petition is this may

keep the bitterness of some future kid.

Maybe remorse, cruelly earned, may imply that lessons have been educated -

also, with this expectation in heart, my mom grinned.
Abraham Esang Oct 2017
To begin with there begins a little sprinkle, only a delicate sound

just delicate, a small "titter" as it taps on your secondary passage.

This, at to begin with, you have a go at overlooking 'til it's decidedly pouring

it reestablishes and continues invigorating each living thing around.

At that point it streams down the timber of the trees with branches agile

what's more, the leaves surrender clean as, drinking heartily, they sup.

Where the beads make a sprinkle, there the drainpipe begins a ******

or, on the other hand it tickles through the rings 'til it douses into the ground.

In the canal there's a puddle, only a little center obfuscate

at that point it develops into a gusher as it sputters past the control.

This downpour tumbles towards the tar, ten times as quick and twice as far

as the tormented educators pull at both their tunics and their sleeve.

Furthermore, once more, it makes an air pocket and makes a little inconvenience

for the wetness of the water causes sobbing from the astute.

There's a flooding of the fields as the water waves and wheels

what's more, the grieving Mormons on their bicycles are crying to the skies.

While the raindrops keep running round edges and they swell down the extensions

at that point they join the happy excursion at the intersection with a run.

When they accumulate in the canal there's a sputtering, merry splutter

with a splashing and expression, they're singing as they clear out.

There's a stammer and a shake as the gusher battles a fight

with the gravity of planet as it joins the droning throng.

However, it's inclination is constant and disregards each safe

pattern of obstructions as determinedly it wends it's direction once more.

Presently it looks for the last butcher and it jumps into the water

of the sea at the passageway of the place we call the narrows.

There's a happy "hurrah" of adulating to the Ruler who has been looking

down on every one of his youngsters, named or not, who looked for his favored 'Rain'.
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