The Destitute

The Destitute

To hide my brown colour

I dress in white apron

Colour my hair silver

Use a borrowed tongue

Spend my holidays in the States.

The mind is washed away

From beneath my feet.

I lose my motherland to an alien

My business to the exotic

My morals are a kept as a pawn

In lieu for a job

That gives me my bread

Or

In lieu of a few doses of medicines

That turn me a slave for ever

Or

In lieu of education

That belittles my parents

The language no more expresses myself.

The strings are becoming tighter

The apron is no more soothing

The air seems to choke

Me to death.

I’ve to kill myself for regeneration.

 

Author's Note

Kindly be as rigorous as possible.