The Things Left Unsaid

Meet Oyinda Johnson, guest writer of today. iRead her poem and fell in love with it, so I thought I’d share.

                  The things left unsaid.


I’m new to this so I decided I’ll just tell you a little story,
I must warn it might be a little gory,
Cos I’m in that solemn mode, wanna tackle society’s recurrent statistics…if you know what  I mean

-Average Girl, not a sinner, not a saint
Lost in her own world, sitting still enough to paint
Straight shoulders slumped, shaped silhouette stained
And she’s beautiful right? But her beauty’s a little quaint.

-It’s cos she’s confused
Battling heart issues
Been dumped and used
And she does, she wants to refuse
But she cannot afford to lose
What little affection, gives her reason (makes her able) to smile at her reflection.

-Mama doesn’t care and
Papa was rarely ever there
and when he was?…
He penetrated her bare
I’m talking front and rear
Short legs, almost tear
Her round face, oozed fear,
Fluttering tears, Utmost Despair…

And soon enough neither did she,
She built herself not a mask but a wall for her face
And her heart, so all you see was that occasional grimace.
Solitude her torture, and yet her haven
With her sin, she thinks, there is no hope of heaven
You see her tainted smile, every once in a while

And neither do they.
I can’t point a finger
Because I’ve got many back my way.
Thus my guilt does linger.
Because I see an individual, walk past me with a half smile
And I do not bother, to heal their hurt, even if just for a little while.

See it wasn’t just papa
it was him and Uncle Moses.
That ruined her innocence
Treated her life with lackadaisal complacence
Blue are violets, red are roses
I’ve started a chapter and I can hardly close it

Love your neighbour, when it’s the hardest
Time flies like a bird but you cannot catch it.
Lend a helping hand if you can help it
Be a blessing and you won’t regret it.



Thank you for reading, please make use of the thought box and share your thought 😀

My thought -> We go through different phases in life, mistakes made, dreams tarnished, hopes smashed, so many things left unsaid. But just as this poem depicts, there’s no point in pointing a finger. Help that individual with the half-smile, lend a helping hand and be counted as a blessing.

But then, this is what I think, what do I know?