Mathew Chiori

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Mathew Chiori
Thursday 10 October 2019

OUR HUNCHBACK

Black skin glows
Tough and toxic we are,
The strength of the horse attached to the hoe of the earth.

The black head is far from light, he said.
The squirrel hole you should probe
Our hunchback distinct theirs,
Which pushes us back to our root, again and again.

Our affliction is born before the sun,
Even from the footage of the ancestors it lies
The mastermind of the rancorous vultures,
Feasting on a beautiful dream to come; I guilt them not.

Everyone grows a hunchback
The one leading our head in one direction
Then how can our eye see the sky
Or our ear be on the ground.

Who will hear me when I speak light?
Or see the infant light; untapped
When our families hunchback cries for attention
That draws us far from every step near.



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