Why me?

Is it wrong to ask why the world runs forward

While I remain still, stuck, unseen?

Is my breath not as worthy?

Is my silence not as loud?

I wonder, is it better to exist,

Or is death a doorway to peace?

Living bruises me

I am burdened,

Helpless beneath heaven’s heavy hush.

The weather whispers nothing.

Is it just bad luck,

Or has my fate been forgotten?

I wander as a wayfarer,

Not to seek joy, but to escape pain.

My seeds never sprout,

While others harvest laughter and light.

My hands are cracked,

My heart a hollow cave.

Tell me

Have I committed a crime

By being born without privilege?

My thoughts float like clouds, formless,

My voice, lost in the winds of indifference.

My rights?

Only words on paper

That never reached my door.

I see others rise with the sun,

But my mornings begin with shadows.

Why are my seasons always winter

While theirs are golden summers?

I asked for an apple,

But perhaps I asked in the wrong season,

Or in the wrong skin.

They say “work hard,”

But my hands bleed.

They say “believe,”

But my prayers return unanswered.

Now my age mates flourish,

Prosperous like palm trees.

And I remain, a rootless reed

Bent by storms of sorrow.

Life is no longer interesting,

And I am no longer interested.

So I ask again, not in anger,

But in aching honesty:

Why me?

Do I not deserve to be seen?

Poem Description

“Why Me: Born Without a Voice” is a deeply emotional piece that explores the silent suffering of many African youth whose basic human rights, mental well-being, dignity, and equal opportunity are often ignored. Blending personal despair with powerful metaphor, the poem questions systemic neglect and challenges the injustice of being unseen and unheard. It speaks to those trapped in cycles of invisibility, reminding readers that every individual deserves recognition, support, and a place in the world. This poem is not just a cry, it’s a call for empathy, inclusion, and justice.

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