Poet-Today | Yakori Bint Muhammed | Her Blossom
Her Blossom I am a puppet on society's stage An act audiences anticipate of me Like a chiseler I am carved into me by earthy guardians To tread a path that sheaths my bloom My youth heralds a wish Manifesting yesteryears prayers of theirs Bedecked at home like a porcelain ware With beautified cracks that equal my endurance Guided by patriarchs and matriarchs I am designed with an interface like a mobile device To implement functions that wrench my framework My inbuilt features by default is asleep Activation I try not for I am meant to obey Revolting reduces my esteem to ashes Erupt I dare not Questions nor answers I dare not comb Within threads of my soul Tangled into weaves that wish to be loosened My fate is written by my kinfolk I am a female An utterance that gazes me A sonorous term I grew up to Her tone cold like harmattan's brew Wrinkling a path I need to embark on I am a female I am told