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Feb 2020
He who is born in the ruthless streets of a busy city
I am without a home
A family
Nor a companion
I am all alone

My homes differ from time to time
Abandoned houses, alleys anywhere the streets welcomes me
I am at the mercy of the changing weather
Every day is a battlefield for survival
A gruesome cycle I only wish a good Samaritan may extricate me from

My matted fur is an infestation of ticks and fleas
I have grown accustomed to them to the point where I consider them my family
A fetid odor you may sense
That might be me passing by, turn a blind eye if you don’t mean well
Please don’t charge at me
My weary bones have had enough for one day

Skinny as a toothpick
I make do with the leftovers you throw into the bin
The little I can find to see another sunrise is more than enough
I could cave in and just die in an alleyway somewhere
No one wouldn’t even feel a void of my passing
But my hope to one day have a place where I can belong
Gives me the willpower to strive to see another dawn

To those who have shown me kindness
And only received a bark in return
Forgive me
It isn’t because of hatred
It is because of my leery, dubious and fearful nature
It is the only way I learnt how to survive
I am yet to trust the hands that have shown me no mercy countless times

I only ask you be patient with me
Be gentle with me until I no longer quiver at your touch
Until I can learn how to love and how to receive love
When that happens, I promise you my unequivocal love and loyalty
Just please don’t give up on me
Rercy Kreki Zola-Zaba
Written by
Rercy Kreki Zola-Zaba  F
(F)   
46
 
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