A small little firefly I was.
With my little legs jumping through the ties,
I got entrapped in my aunt's little sighs.

Where was the fire to the fly?
I think it was lost in the trap.
As, I couldn't step out from its snags.

Oh, what exactly was the trap?
Was it a form of rectangle with a voice?
Or, a dance of skins in the light?

Are you curious to the bait?
Oh, my hot tea will meet you in its steam.
Just catch your breath while at it.

It is called a TV in the world.
In it, we watched dramas all day long.
Emitting sighs through our lips.

Being Nine meant I had time.
Now, I was stuck to the view,
With no plan left in sight.

In time, I got revenged from its mics.
How so? You may ask.
Its loudness exchanged my hearing for my sighs.

Loving the drama proved a nought.
For all I saw were faces without a voice.
Drawing my energy to a Zen.

Being NINE became a hell.
In it, I dug my heels deep into the shells.
Shredding my confidence like a sac.

A shadow of myself, the new me embraced.
Aunt, oblivious of my pain as her sighs danced up the skies.
Soon I became an ant in place of a firefly.

Shrinking in public became my norm.
Words failed me at all times.
For, my ears seemed to betray me like a kink.

Life continued like a pain it was.
I was forced to salsa to its beats.
Hoping for a miracle by the dawn.

Five, Four, Three, my friends reduced.
Mocking whispers became a fan.
The love I knew, became a sham.

By the day, I was a mess.
By the night, I locked my thoughts.
In between, my books were my buds.

Had it harder than the most.
Got it tougher than the best.
Held it harder like a spec.

Could write my life story like a pro.
Forget not, the ears of walls.
Some secrets may never be a kite.

Still, my pen won't stop at the ball.
It pours emotions from its balls.
Now, I got no option but to ball.

Sounds in an abstract can be tough.
For living in Nigeria is not for the weak.
You need your wits at all times.

Listened to lessons with a need.
Not an aid left in sight.
For my...