POETRY: GOLD EUGENE Writes About Sentiment | The Dancing Doctor

Popularly known as a smile girl, Gold Eugene is at it again with her wonderful piece of writing, this she titles "Sentiment" but I call it "The Dancing Doctor".

In a society where a child is bound to do what his or her parent wishes, just to ensure a great height of the ego in the face of relatives and the society at large, children often times are bent toward fulfiling the dream their parent found difficult to fulfil due to circumstances beyond their control.

Even in Relationships too, just because we do not want to be treated differently, we tend to settle for the less. And this has become a bone of contention in the mind of Gold Eugene. In her piece, she made her thought so explicit that even a blind mind could vividly comprehend her message.

It's one piece you wouldn't want to ignore.



A Piece by Gold Eugene


How you hold and bend me

The way I wish not to go 

The paths I choose not to tread

I am torn under your grasp

Your unbearable embrace

Am torn between pleasing and displeasing

I am constantly pulled here and across

Across calls to give in my will

And here calls not to give in 

My tears pour in torrents

Even the hut of my mama a debating ground

Am torn between chasing my dreams and chasing theirs

Sobs....

If I take the path my heart wills

I become a bad child, my mama is called names

Isolation calls out to me even in my domain

If I follow after their dreams,my own dreams hunt me like a nightmare

I want to be dancer that's what my heart yearns for I tell. My mama

Shhh she quiets me

You have to be a doctor she says...

Dreading the isolation that follows

Am off to the city,am a doctor now

But daily in my dreams I dance

Dancing hunts me 

Amongst my colleagues I share my dreams

They laugh at me calling me the dancing doctor

I have been torn enough am going back home

Going home to cast off the chains that bound me for so long

At my mothers hut 

I cast them off 

I call out to her Mami am off to be the dancer I have always wanted to be

She shakes her head in sorrowful movements

She hurls out words to prick me but I have been hunted by my dreams enough to care

Years have passed now

Am a dancer

In my little theatre

Contended and happy

Even though the villagers still mock me in sing song manner

Calling me the dancing doctor

Even when mothers curse their children who went after their own dreams 

For following in my foot steps

Am still happy ND contended

For the chains of sentiment holds me not