The Alien in Me

The Alien in Me

There is an alien in me

Of whom I am not proud

I try to make peace with him

But he is a big fraud

 

He commands me

Whenever he wants

And even when I’m not keen

I must obey at once

 

Sometimes he does come

When in our class, there’s a teacher

And refuses to calm

Or wait one minute to the future

 

I must wake

Even in the middle of the night

And go out in haste

Sometimes without light

 

Just to let him go

I mount on the toilet pit

And to achieve this goal

I may push and clench my fist

 

He may change his mid

And instead, begin to resist

Oh how I wish he were kind

To allow me, in peace, to exist

 

What a great relief I get

When he slides down my internal wall

Making me forget

That between him and me, was ever, a war

 

Then I have peace

On the inside of me

Because there is left of him no piece

To alter the way I’d like to be

 

He doesn’t leave me for long, though

I just have to take a meal

And few hours later

He comes back again



23 thoughts on “The Alien in Me” by Anzaa Msonter (@sontel)

  1. Wow! Simple, beautiful and creative. Never would have thought something as inconsequetial as easing oneself could be painted so beautifully. Cheers.

    1. @ohmston. Thank you. I got inspired.

    1. @sylvia. Wow to you too. Thanks.

  2. This is nice. I think the best solution is to forget food. Good job

    1. @laworemike. Thank you, but wait a little. May be I should write another one on what happens when we try to forget food.

  3. I love this mehn, good

  4. One of the best so far.

    1. Thank you @kaycee. What else can I say?

  5. Simple and colourful…

  6. @sontel You can really wax philosophical about going to the toilet.

  7. A delicate way to tell a not so delicate tale…this is fantastic…

  8. Beautiful. You did well with this. Well done and good luck.

    1. Thanks for your goodwill.

    1. I appreciate your time.

  9. NS rocks! Very creative, The first few stanzas really piqued my curiosity. kudos…

  10. Beautiful. I say beautiful because it’s evident you grappled a bit with meter and the rhyme scheme ‘abab’, which you almost carried through but for some verses. A blank verse in the end. I love one thing, though. And it bespeaks the mind of a true poet: you chose an event no one would have thought of without a fit of irritation; and you garnish the shit well.

Leave a Reply