When we as human being change positions of factualness and employ misappropriation and expect life to be normal, you surprise the generation. You cannot place your left arm or leg on your right leg and walk comfortably. Stop dreaming is perhaps the message that is being relayed to us in the following poem. Sample it for fun and growth as well. The lessons are very simple and clear. Enjoy
Courtesy Jared Angira
My man is gone away to serve
the master
his chief
At the set of the sun
the pigeons
and wagtails
are homing
lurking along the cold side
The black wall of euphorbia
Concrete
Down the valley I hear
the shepherds call
The wolves have hawled
from the hillside
caves
The half-potent old men
virility sailed away with time
minutes turned into years
The worn out men
sing ruthless epics
from beer party gospels;
The golden flutes
I do not know, I do not know
I cannot tell, And I cannot tell
When my man will come
When my man will come
I must live these days alone
For my man must serve the chief
The weaver bird should rest in her nest
And stir not the heat- burnt hope
For the fog is still absent
Let peasants cry into the dusk
The fields have partial answers
Children endlessly rock in the cradles
Shall I go to find my mate?
Hunger shall never let me rest
The hours delve into years
Soon I shall have no tears to shed
No laughter to burst
I will not know
When first it started.
Don't wait for matters to exacerbate to that extend. Get your priorities right on the onset. The fact that you are human doesn't necessarily always have to end in misery and embroilment as it is the case in our real life. If you are the head play your part and stop messing others because of your indecisiveness.
See you soon
Editor; youtooformorality
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