A Proud Thespian Poem by Alade Abayomi Idris

I want to be a mirror

That reflects the world we dwell

I might be looked down on

And called names

Though philos-man orated I have no place in the society

Because I am always in the image of others

Joy be met if I mirror their eerie thoughts.


In school, friends may jeered

Snared and sneered

They might think they would be better

Because they wore long faces

Longer than their robes

With mountain of books in armpit

Joy be met if I mirror their eerie thoughts.


Brothers some cups of blood may lost

And stylists style sisters seriousness with wigs

Shout they may when hush need

Hush when shout should

Desecrate holiness of our space

Joy be met if I mirror their eerie thoughts.


And on the day of the gods

Fire-stick flickered as its carrier ran the arena

Our procession pitched with our doggerelic chants

Beyond spec's suspicions and

Sway in heavenly delights

Joy be met if I mirror their eerie thoughts.


To mirror I chose

All day I would

Evil hands might lurked

And space becomes abattoir

Hunting its own

Joy be met if I mirror their errie thoughts

Even in my solitary station

Beneath the crust.