Walking myself
Through the corridors of dull greyness
Talking to myself
Until I become free of all my bitterness
For it doesn’t matter who has hurt me
I am nothing special
I have hurt many too, irreparably, deeply,
With this my heart must wrestle.

Walking and whistling
Talking and thinking
Of what I’m receiving
Whenever I’m grieving
Spiritual resetting
Not ever forgetting
Destiny re-weaving
Deep inner perceiving.

Che Chidi Chukwumerije
Poems from the inner river