The Arena in my Body

 

 

 

 

That my station is at the kitchen,

That my niche is by the laundry basket,

That my place is by the maternity ward,

That I’m resigned to

 

That you can be so ungrateful

That when I go toil for you

That you sit by all day complaining

Adding to my frustrations

 

Toil? You that can’t even bring oil home,

You whose pockets are inaccessible like treasured lockets

Do you understand toil?

Toil is scrubbing the trousers you soil

After you spoil binging cheap liquor

 

Hush! You thankless being,

That does not recognize my sacrifices

You who continues to drain my strength and blood

You who has stripped the man in me

You deserve nothing but thrashing

 

You are just but a beast

With bloated ego like yeast

And ‘big’ brain the size of cyst

Go and fight like other men

And stop this omen

 

 

                                                        Duet By @GKaneyia  and @Varaq