Postal child

What shall I do before you see me as human too? That blood flows in my veins too, I have big dreams, birthed from a yearning heart, I too want the best from this life. But my voice is drowned in the honks of your cars, When you smell me in the dungeon of my abode, I watch how you closely put on your mask. If only corruption could smell as badly as me. Did you tell your children about me? That I am the sacrifice for their luxury, that I too have dreams. Don't tell me my lack of vision put me here, How dare you pass by with that indignant face? I should be the trophy in your rooms, awards for competence, Hung for display proudly for your admirers.  Our postal child, a true son of the soil. Met with applause for a well-done public service  Yet our dreams are in your archives, Destitute on your well-paved streets. We lined up stained by the mud of our village square,  As if we didn't know, that you have come again To plunge us further still into nightmares. I know someday, when you pass by, I shall summon the courage and touch the hem of your garment. Perhaps you are as as inhuman as you seems. © Akinkunmi -Akinsanmi. @kumazy