To all bullies.

Why are you so insecure? Why don’t you learn to stop hating yourself and let others be themselves. You don’t take responsibility for your actions. You want all the attention. Have you forgotten affection? Yeah. How would you know? How would you know what it means to love ? Maybe, no one ever showed you love? That is why I leave you to the one above. He knows how to love.

I pray you never walk in my shoes. You never feel what I feel. I hope you always have someone to stand up for you when someone hits you to the ground. You know, it isn’t easy being a target. To pray to God to be invincible. 

You take advantage of your luck. You take for granted the side you are on. I hope you never get thrown to the side I am stuck on. The side of ridicule. The side of constant fear. The side of questions. You ask yourself. Why is this happening to me? Why have the world ganged up against me? Am I not worthy ? Yes, Are you not worthy? You ask yourself. 

You have an opportunity which you misuse.  You have a platform that you abuse. You have the stage. You can make a change.  The mic is all yours. Create an impact. It is a fact. A bully can change. I believe you can change. Be an inspiration instead of creating frustration. Be the leader of good. Not of evil. 

Your words can heal. They can kill. Your actions can carry others further. They can also murder. Stop this bloodshed. 

Bullying needs to be stopped. We are losing too many young lives to this sick behaviour. Love is the ultimate goal. Spread love not hate. The world is big enough to contain us all. Everyone deserves a chance at a happy life. Everyone deserves to live without fear. 

Written by Grace balogun

A dark place.

I feel locked in a dark room. Where there are no mirrors, because of self hate. 

No doors, I feel like I have been held captive forever. 

There is no light shining through the walls. Though I would love to see all that is there beyond this darkness. 
Maybe I have lost hope for any show of sparks to fly through my way. Maybe I have lost myself to this dark presence that surrounds me. Maybe, evil has drank my blood of revival and the bones of survival it has broken within me.

 Though sometimes I give light a chance to show me the beauty that is within me. I give it another opportunity to bestow a smile on my face. To make me feel alive again. The death that has taken over, plucks out the hair of strength that I have within me. I cry out loud. But no one hears me on the other side. 

I am too strong to take my life. I am too weak to survive. I shout for help, but no one seems to hear me calling. I open my mouth but my voice seems to be falling. 

Will I fall and let this consume me? Will I give up and let it laugh at me. 

In this darkness, I have learnt to be pure. To not seek to be loved by others but to love from within me. To dig up light in the darkness that I reside with. To find life at the end of the tunnel.  To seek to be revived because I remember that once upon a time I lived. There was light in my room. There were windows that I saw through. People heard and loved. For I don’t want this to be the end of me.

Written by Grace balogun

Regrets.

A man regrets without looking at the other side. Beyond the river. Outside the wall that stands firm and tall. 

That has its foot well placed underneath the ground. It’s root is where lost is found. 

Dreams bounded by its hold. Blinding. Covering the windows that allows man to see beyond what is now.

 Oh! Look to each day, listen to the song it sings. Notice what it brings. 

For it does not take what that has been sown. Stop the sorrowful moan. 

For a man’s predicament is determined by the garment that wears his body today.

 For it is true, a foolish man wears the same garment of regret without removing it. Do not be the foolish man. Take it off.

Written by Grace balogun

Oh! Soldier.

Oh! Soldier. Oh! Soldier.

Why are you not getting older.? Why so young did you have to go? They don’t mourn for crushing your sweet sweet dreams. The talents that have been thrown into deep slumber. Never to wake up. Never to be heard. 

They put you in this brainwashed folder. Though, you get bolder but no one seems to bother. 

Oh ! Soldier. Oh ! Soldier.

Your blood wasted on the field of wars that was created by wicked men. They do not care about the flood of nightmares that you go through every night. While they sleep in deep luxury. You sleep with no jury to bury the pain. Though they are sane. You run insane. 

Your body is left incomplete. But, those who started the war that you try to complete. They compete with their pride. 

Oh! Soldier. Oh! Soldier.

You have forgotten how to walk. Your mind is constantly at work. Your brain talks and talks. You don’t remember what a sound sleep felt like at all. You cry from torment. They say it’s part of the agreement.

Patriotic you are! Barbaric they are! Pave the way. Let them too lay. If this is a justice fight, let them fight too.

Oh! Soldier. Oh! Soldier.

Prepare them. Let them sacrifice for their own wars. Give orders. Take charge. Let those who start the war, be in the battle field. At the front line. Let them finish what began from the works of their hands.

“Only the dead have seen the end of the war” -plato

Written by Grace balogun

Race.

Color is color. Skin is skin. Different is different. 

Skin as white, red , black , brown ,green, orange, yellow….Nothing that is below, nothing that is above.
Eyes that varies but still functions the same. Don’t it? or believe it. 

All part of one race called the human race. It is not a race of wars. Not a race of skin.  Not a race of color. Is it that hollow? Too dark to pierce an arrow of realisation.

Can we learn equality? Open our eyes to no more wicked superiority. Insecurities arising from society’s standards and injustice. Is this the predicament we choose to practise or are we all active in this negative achievement?

Color is color. Skin is skin. Different is different.

Written by Grace balogun

Maybe.

One day, 

Life will leave.

The theif of the last breath, It will steal.

There will be no air left to breathe. 

The vessel will be emptied.

It may be a celebration. 

Fame beyond the sea.

Beauty that was undeniable.

Life spoken for eternity.

Maybe, 
when death comes, the angels will rejoice.

Here comes the reason behind the joyfull noises.

Welcoming life, into the bossom of peace.

Maybe,
Life was spent wisely.

No regrets. No remorse. 

Just feelings of fulfillment. 

Purpose that wasn’t buried. But, found. 

A journey not wasted.

Life is short. Live well. Live with a purpose. Do what is right. Find your calling. You don’t know what the future is and where it will take you.

Written by Grace balogun

Conversations.

“Good bye “, he said.

“No, please stay”. The only thing she could force her mouth to utter.

“I hate you”, she said.

I don’t care anymore was his answer to her.

“Don’t talk to me no more”. But, “I’m lonely”. 

“I can’t live without you”.  “I’m broken”.
Written by Grace balogun

A woman’s torment. 

I have a vagina and you think you have some sort of entitlement to it. I have breasts, does that mean I am just an object to be pressed on when you feel like it.
I walk on egg shells because I fear I might trigger you by just being who I am. I don’t look like you, so I am not human? Or  you act inhuman.

I don’t have feelings. I can’t stand for myself. But, you can. Even if I want to. You try to bring me down.

You push my spirit into darkness. Beat my confidence down. Snatch away my dignity. Rape me of respect. No remorse. No shame. What is your aim?

You try to Control me. Suffocation beyond what the bones beneath my skin can take. They are broken into pieces. From strong gripping and twisting.

The hair on my head has become a way for you to cause me pain. The belt on your waist knows what my flesh taste like. My teeth falls like raindrops from the sky from the hard blows that meets it. Breaking it from that which gives it strength to stand strong. Sometimes, my eyes are so swollen that I think I bleed red from my eyes. Sleepless nights are uncountable.

If I let you break my spirit. I will have nothing left of me. Though, you try so hard to take the only thing I have left. But, you won’t succeed. And for every deed, I will strike back. I will regain my flesh. Build my soul. Come out of the darkness. Even if you don’t confess. I will see light. Seek might and win the fight.

Written by Grace balogun

Sunshine.

It’s bright. It’s light.
Shining on skin. On love. 

Shines on the wicked, from above.

It brightens the future. 

Brings hope for a new day.

Giving the world another chance.

The dance of repentance.

Watering it’s dreams and aspirations.

So that it grows into a tall and fruitful tree.

That it could be.

For it is, the future indeed.
Written by Grace balogun