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Emmiasky Ojex Apr 2020
it’s not that the eyes can’t see at times
it’s just the brain that can’t read –
the pain, dip as cells in our body; smeared on smiles
it’s just that our brains can’t read

beautiful things have scars too
that you are yet to see them don't mean they have not
beautiful people feel pain too –
it’s just so well-hidden that eyes always hit a blindspot

and after it’s happened to another Dante
we all gather to cry, mourn on crumbled mountains
But of what good is cry to a soul that aches no more?
of what use is remorse to a heart that beats no more?
This poem talks about the inability of man to understand danger before it hits them
Emmiasky Ojex Mar 2019
What if I said I love you?
Would your heart skips its stepping stones and you fall into a bottomless hole?
What if I told you each time, I see your buoyed up face as early as 1 a.m at morn in my lovely dreams
My soul, spirit and body yearns to be always around you and casts a spell against its master ne’er to leave that scene

What if I told you that before I sleep off at dusk,
I’d pick up my mobile device just to take one more glance at the dazzling angel my wallpaper harbors
What if?, you got to know that the ‘ten tails of love’ were all for you
What if, all these and more you knew?

Would you light up my world with the sun in your smile,
tell me ‘I love you too’ and ‘You’re mine’
or would it seem to you, another love confession
one of the many love words you’ve been hearing long before you were eight(a)-teen

Would you leave me shocked by the regretful poem I wrote to woo you?
I’m afraid of being broken by another kind and thus, will never tell you!

©Emmiasky Ojex
The love's gone, what are your thoughts?
Emmiasky Ojex Jan 2019
Tell it to the mountains
tell it out loud that the world might hear
Wax up the steep and rugged hills, journey the valleys and fountains
tell them! oh tell them now that they are near

‘that there lived the casted stones
Let the world hear of their silent voices
‘though may come as echoes
Yet, in peasantry they live and make such loud noises

The worthless pearls have found their worth
they sought for noesis and were answered without delay
Tell it out loud for
the son and daughters of lay men are now of great names

Tell their success story
Tell them it’s not all irony.

©Emmiasky Ojex
The casted away may someday become great.
Emmiasky Ojex Dec 2018
THE STORY IN MY HEAD (The Man Sitting In Your Front)

He’s not a human being – No, he is less of that
He might’ve been the one through whose ***** I permeated into my mother’s ******
But would you believe me if I told you that he deflowered his product?
And tags it a righteous conduct

To take a bite of the material to know it’s worth
And to be the first person to know what’s what and what’s not
That man sitting in front of you was the one who’s made me a shame
Since Mum caught him on me the second time, life’s never remained the same

I can’t even call my natal vehicle “Mom”
She’d say “I am not the mother of a *****”
I cannot give birth to a lady
Who’s only dream is to give birth as a baby

But what am I to do when that man sitting in front of you caused all these?
I can’t even tell you the pain I feel when someone calls me by his last name
I have to hold it in each time, in school I have to be called upon by the teacher with that name while being sane
But to whom am I to explain all these?

That the man you call my Father,
has committed ******
towards myself and my mother,
he’s sexed his first daughter
in an attempt to be the first buyer.

©Emmiasky Ojex
The #TheStoryInMyHead is a compilation of tales that narrate inhumanity and its adverse effects on its victims, something that's been on around the world for too long and has done too much evil to be left alone.

This is 2 out of 24
Emmiasky Ojex Nov 2018
I look down and I don't recognize myself
I tried to push my legs to go faster
but I guess theirs was faster than mine

Pushed to the wall of a filthy building
All I heard was ripples
I knew I've been caught

I could not register what was happening again
Grunts,painful moans of pleasure
Their hormones was saying yes,mine said no

After getting satisfied,they push and go
But I'm left to pick the pieces,but they left with one thing
and that was my pride

The tale of that which I am afraid to tell anyone
Emmiasky Ojex Nov 2018

I look back on the memories we’ve had sometimes ago
When life was free for every one of us, both young and old
When hiding in dilapidated buildings wasn’t a survival technique
And death was from nature, not a man-made epidemic

When our young ones were free to go to school, grow up and become men who’ll rule
And the dead sons of our land weren’t having their cadavers along the road-path
When our daughters were whole to be married
And not hampered like now as they have to be carried

I’ll look back on the time happiness was never far from our sides
And joy wasn’t gotten from seeing our enemies die
I’ll look back on the building up front
With so many moments had therein, good and bad, all that we hold fond

I’ll remember that fahir was in us too
But now, as soon as the day brings itself new
I’ll see that the brother I’ve had my whole life is gone
To his end of time at the mercy of a ******’s shot

I’ll go to the death-counter, and see another sun’s been decimated
And another light has just been put off
All for what?
The land,
Or religion?

Another 12-Year’ld has just been laid to rest
With his mother wailings as the day before yesterday, he laid on her chest,
Promised her “I will grow up, become a feared militant and put the wars to an end”
But, he has just been pushed off of earth

We had holidays
Now only morning days
Yet as the dust fills our faces
We’ll hold on to our faith

For someday, we shall all together, say
“It was all yesterday”
So for this, I’ll always remember us this way!

From a friend that cares,
©Emmiasky Ojex
Please heal the world in whatever little way you can
Emmiasky Ojex Nov 2018
Why should I hold it in?
Is my heart an inn?
Why should I not say when I have been hurt?
Will you only learn the evil your shunning made me do when I become a member of the dreaded cults?

Why can I not cry too?
Why does my pains have to be kept mute?
Will you only see the pain in my perforated heart after I go home
Beyond this phase, transcendence into the metaphysical zone?

I am human,
Born of skin and bone
Not made of rocks and stones
I have a right to be sad.

So why will you tell me to hide my face,
Beneath the dwellings of the bed sheet
And under the railing of my own skin
Why, I still wonder why?

If you can tell me your pain
Maybe I can ease you by telling you the shame coming out to tell the world what boys suffer brings to my name.

From your friend that cares,
©Emmiasky Ojex
Your words will either mar or heal someone.

We are boys, not stones.
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