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Sunday, 22 October 2017


I have a dream but i can't close my eyes to see it.

I've worked too hard... my sweat hit the earth yet i can't germinate through this land.

Don't ask me why, 'coz lately the only letters i see are W-H-Y.

I often ask myself why i can't hit the sky.
And when people ask me "what's up?" i can't help but tell a lie.

I'm bothered by this lack of growth.

Somebody tell me what has happened to the seed i've sown?

Welcome to my vineyard, where my grapes only make sour wine.

So stuck in this waiting game, i pray the coach subs me out and signals an end to my time.

Till then let me keep telling y'all this story, wrapped in poetry and tied in a bow with my tearfully written rhymes.

The thing is... I've been far from the ordinary, yet it seems i can't add the extra, hung in transition between two superlatives.

What do i do if these lemons don't make lemonade?

What do i do if I never make the grade?

From a phobia of failure to an affinity for it.

Now i seat legs crossed... across a table from it.

Despite looking at the menu, I've observed table manners while dining with it.

It's like having that friend that pisses you off come around every time.

It's like having that bad date last from 4 till 9.

Success please would you be mine?

I'll drop down on a knee and give you rings till you finally pickup.

Till you take me away in cuffs.

Coz i know they speak 'bout me with scorn, in their voice i can hear them scoff.

All i ask is for my hay to be made now that my sun shines.

All i ask for is clarity, else i slip down these stairs so fast like i was going down a landslide.

Gone are the days when i was awesome, everything i touched went gold especially my indeliberate actions... but now where has my midas touch gone?

Please would you come back, I mean life's been flipped without you.

Now i see the other side, alone on this new island washed ashore by the rivers tide.

The breeze ruffles the trees and reality feels so virtual.

Am i gonna be stuck here forever? or do i need to perform a ritual?

I know my hope should be strong, but i can't help but despair.

The situation chokes, figuratively i gasp for air.

I've strived for so long without results that i guess the best option is to hang my boots...that should atleast take away the pain.

But do Quitters ever win? i guess not.

Coz i don't know how long i can keep up.

Everything around me seems so woozy... like my world spun so fast and came to a sudden stop.

Dear Lord... i think it's time for you to put the cherry on top.

Expunge my sins and exorcise my demons.

Guess i need prayers from both the Muslim clerics and the christian monks.

I have fought a great fight, all i need now is a glorious victory.

Haven't I? or do i not merit it?

Pain is relative... i feel like Cassius Clay used my head as a punching bag for an insane training session.

I feel it everyday... yet I've refused all drastic measures.

You don't want to know how i feel when i can't take dinosaur leaps forward.

Success seems like fiction fiction and everything is Jurassic.

Onwards together yet i feel left behind.

I'm out here in the open o! before they start saying i like to hide.

Give me what's mine, i demand to be satisfied... like a horny woman whose lover sexual drive is fried... i would not be neglected anymore else i bring the house down.

Mayday!  Mayday!! 

I'm here to swap this thorny crown with that of perfumed roses.


Ain't leaving here without a fight hence i roll up my sleeve.

Life is short... Life is brief.

I've spent my youth in pain, God forbid that
I'm past my prime... only a few people would say the same.

They size me up, their eyes spelling the word disdain.

It's insane... would kicking the bucket have been better than mishandling the cups?... my tears roll down my cheek as i cry over spilled milk.

Forever cut from a different cloth, a king in clothing not made from silk.

Hopefully form is temporary and class is permanent.

Or maybe I've had turkey as i washed it down with this cup of suffering.

At least my lord Jesus didn't shy away from it.

I let my faith cling to his words on the cross... "It is finished".

That he gave up the ghost means my suffering is diminished... and that's word!