Can you tell that I’m lost?
Wandering through life blindly
With nothing leading me but my distrust.
Can you tell that I’m enclosed?
Sealed within my own misfortune
Is it obvious that I’ve had my optimism folded up and enveloped?
Can you tell that I’m hurt?
If you looked into my eyes, would you see where it burns?
Because I can’t prove it, not while my emotions remain inert.
Love doesn’t live here,
A
Akunna Ezekwem 