A Slave To Myself Poem by Angela Bontle Ditumiso

I like it down here
Where none gets to hear
The sound of my voice
When I scream and squeal
Haunted and taunted
By my past choices

I like it down here
In this place called hell
Where ghosts spell
Every now and then
And I wail until there's no
Tear to spare
You don't know
The things I've committed
Reasons I'm tormented

I'm a slave to myself
Imprisoned by a series of recollections
My soul has been gripping to a shelf
Because of my past actions

I won't yelp for help
But I'll hold on until the lifeline gets severed
Until then, I'll be slave to myself
Slave to my past