Writing Called Taboo

Here was a book cover to judge

that somehow glorified nudity,

inhumane nature,

silence of silent heroes

for whom there were few

who would put forward their struggles.

We shun apologists

we damn the poor

we regress

we fear

we fear not knowing ourselves

we fear and that is why 

we don't speak against them

it is not that we don't care.

To read was to delineate the self,

to sympathize with the oppressed, merely a trend.

Pictures of buildings, trees walking around them,

but only at night,

farmlands at the doorstep in daylight

and an eye to perceive the whole.

One of a kind for everyone

and one language to convey somehow 

the meaning of it all.

Before contemplating nudity came civil discourse?

Disgusting masculinity had already won

when we were born,

defeating aging gracefully.

It was sad and depressing.

Women too grew stern 

yet together they too were conservative.

They were all khalifa,

the men of the age,

young girls, naked, insecure in classrooms.

Progression of their lives,

a parade to see,

then civil discourse over nudity!

What to say of protests?

Bodily shame and rural men -

Discrimination embedded deep within,

such were writings we have read.

Social truths, awful images.

Though difficult to know 

if the photograph was black and white

or whether it was hypocrisy.