You say that I
intimidate you.
That the sight of me
leaves you without a clue.
My shoulders are
too straight,
My head is held up
too high,
You say that I walk
like I own the sky.
But.
Would you rather I shrunk,
and made myself very small,
So that you can
pick me up
and throw me
like a basketball?
Please clear the path
as I catwalk through,
I really have no use,
for the likes of you.
Written by
© Ivie M. Eke 2017.
