Becoming My Own King
By: Evonne-Lisha Ogolo
The maze is a mess of angry scribbles.
A child creates the mediating map.
Naive, they lead with a heart like Sybil’s,
Leading with love, the innocent gap.
With their lion’s mane they strive to guide
a misguided pride the king’s eyes can’t see.
Unconditional, that gentle heart never lied,
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but too bitter were the leaves that would set them free.
Self-abandonment was the price she paid
When she cut her mane, and ignored the sunlight.
Indoctrination, she became afraid
of the truth of her soul, so she had to fight.
Outcast, when I learned self-respect.
Outcast, when I no longer bowed my head.
//
This is a sonnet I wrote for a submission, but never recieved a reply for. I’m not a poet in practice, but wanted to try my hand expressing the transformation I underwent that changed my life for the better last year.
