But as it happens in us squalors it’s worse in the high society clique. Selfishness, rape, murder, witchcraft and every kind of unthinkable behavior. Relate this to Africans who die with a delusion that there is equal rights and freedom in the west, they die with a naked kind of lie.
In this decorated room, my soul murmurs a prayer that at least this time, this manufactured happiness can last more than just a nights sleep and that I can forget all of myself without coming back the next day for another glassed antidote.
Be calm, why the anger ?
Be understanding, why feel out of place ?
Your legs crumbling, no need to tremble.
Your eyes stuck no need to grieve,
the marriage delays, the job decays, the failures unwanted.
all have to come since days are born to come and go and to a larger extent nothing can be done about what they bring or what they bid goodbye with
there is beauty in building up something, love in watching it grow, Satisfaction when it stands and experience when by fate it fails.
A life-changing epiphany.
A complication.
A trepidation
that even in
the insurgents,
the ones with
bottles and bottles
of red pills,
the Mavericks.
Within them,
lies those
still
enslaved by
the very fruits of their rebellion.
Eventually, I am getting old, old but fine, like gold. If you'd asked me, five years ago, I wouldn’t have predicted patches of happiness even for a day in my life. But here I am, getting old— and loving it, to the moon.
a happy birthday to me on this 10th
You are a blossoming soul
Together, I am isolated. Alone, I bloom.
Lies Of There gods. Am sorry !? NO, but a god that tells me to do what's real to me differs not from a marriage that encourages me into a threesome or worse a gang bang.