Glass Ceiling

I count the varied blessings

Dealt out through the lessons,

I subtract the pain

To perceive the drama lessens.

The gutter runs riot of rustics

And phonies spread us dry like raisins.

They claim we transgressing

But the tragedy’s there ain’t no one addressing

The hell we all living

Through. We thriving and we weeded

Time to heal and we all illin’

Time to eat and no one’s feeding.

Young ones are screaming

And nobody’s heeding.

They’re hurt and they’re bleeding,

Open sores and injuries

All over their bodies.

On bended knees, we’re praying

But our situation’s dramatic irony.

Our rejoicing is elegy

Picture us in the ministry of poverty.

But sincerely,

None of us is tripping.

My courage will build up my entity,

Create a paradise in this Hades’ territory.

Like an inner mystery

Evolving independently

To breathe a new reality

Into a personal niche.

I’ll find ways to put my talent to use eternally.

I’m doing it mentally,

If you can’t picture me, physically.

Until I bring change to the community,

Paste eternity up in the range of society.

As an agent of ingenuity,

Preacher of individuality,

Victim of animosity,

Subject of controversy,

And a staunch disciple of originality.

Always sought an opportunity to be me

Now that I have the prerogative,

I’m through procrastinating,

I’m done with all this hating,

I’m busting through the glass ceiling.

Akpan

Related articles

• Irony
• The ironic truth about sincerity
• Achieving Greatness
• The Glass Ceiling