Why doesn’t hate rhyme with anger
Or downfall with disaster?
In a room full of bright lights,
Why can’t I speak about darkness?
Why can’ I preach about pro blackness
When most of the congregation is white.
Remind me why I have to play by the rules,
Why this next line had to be random enough to end with the word ‘fools’.
What happens when I am inspired
By a range of words unrelated, unacceptable and unrhymable?
How do I speak about tears and vulnerability,
Or heartache and integrity?
At what point can I rhyme jealousy with betrayal?
Because those two go hand in hand,
There’s no need to be in denial.
But ashes to ashes
And dust to dust
A poet who is able to rhyme as the world around them crashes
Is a poet I cannot trust.
Love,
A
x
Akunna Ezekwem 