Sensitization Program

Hey guys!

Last week I went for a sensitization program against child abuse and molestation. I wrote a poem before then and kept practicing it countless times in front of the mirror,in the kitchen, everywhere even. When the day came, I practiced it one more time at home and left for the venue. It started quite late,the program was scheduled to start by 10AM but it started around 12AM because they had a change of venue and all.Before the invited guests arrived the MC asked if anyone had anything to present, a girl from Baptist high school sang a song titled ‘African child’, another recited a poem titled ‘Teacher’ then a girl from Esteem School sang a song ‘she titled’ “my mother”, because its a love song but she changed some words. And then lastly, I recited my own poem titled ‘walking creatures’. Well I can’t say if it was good or not, or if I was loud enough or not. I just did it and that’s it but I wish I did it as good as how I used to practice in front of the mirror and all.

𝗪𝗮𝗹𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗖𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲𝘀

Humans with no ounce of humanity

Ruining lives and snatching innocence

Would I call them humans?

Walking creatures

That know not of pity or compassion

Behind their rib cages are black piece of flesh

That pumps black blood

Evil blood that circulates in their veins

And prevent them from knowing

What empathy sympathy or compassion is

Devils in human forms

That lurk in the shadows

Hunting their preys

Their minds coated by greed

And their eyes blinded by lust

Shattering dreams and killing every bit of hope

Human beings

With no ounce of humanity

Would I call them humans?

Walking creatures

Who have no hearts

Rather a black piece of flesh

That oozes black blood

Same black blood

Runs in their veins

Black

From their evil plots

Human beings whose minds

Has been coated in greed

Their eyes blinded with lust

And their hands covered in filth

Who snatch innocence

Shatter young dreams

And turn them into nightmares

Then still haunt them

They haunt their victims

Even in their nightmare of a dream

They kill the seed of hope

And bury it deep so it never grows

They traumatize

And make people

Lose hope in humanity

They make people wonder

If goodness still exists.

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