I'm Just An Still Enough Poem by Aadil Hingorjo

Several questions and a humble going
People, cruel people, and I'm all alone
I don't give up; I don't beg the butter
I sell out little things; often they shun me off
Thrilled to see the thickest threads
Could be raped, and I could be murdered down
Could be another Zainab, I could another be Zara Mangi
My country's constitution is mute
Muteness has enveloped the articles
Burnt by the extreme sunrays, night annoys me
Nonsense mocks at me, wolves are around
An unhomed doll, I'm a parentless plot
Sick seasons smile to me; I'm a mistaken size
Indifferent, strange, and alien I feel
I'm made feel the worst of everything
Nothing moves me, nothing applauds
None has read me... I'm a trackless secret
A secret so visible everywhere
Instants of messy mornings molest me
An unpublished book of serious stories
Down on my neck is the breaking pain
Stomach isn't at place since days
When I walk to them, they debase me
They gear on to unnotice me
All the men and women are cautious
They're suspicious to me,
as if I'm the only wrong inn
Weakened to my vessels, I'm a strong word
In me, awake are the magnificent themes
I'm a damn decent depiction
A display of restricted writeups
Impure I, unwashed I, and the stained I
Clouds of abuses rain upon me mostly
Conversant to my own self, I fall blank
Blank are all bays in front of me
The absoluteness occupies me
I'm an enriched emptiness; an eminent echo
Perhaps the writer died amidst
And the cultivation couldn't be convincing
A poem by an anonymous,
An unexamined artery,
An ignored worldview
I'm just an still enough!