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Is this water on my cheek?
Or felt something streak
O' where 's the glass magic?
I guess my head plays logic
Come, show me who I am
Are these tears or sham?
No, am not shirking
Though heavy and shaking;
I won't cry but smile,
The body, am scatty of, is only vile.
No, no dancing but grief,
But, won't starve; alive, I must live
Is it not time for smoke to clear?
Am hurt, when these vultures cheer,
while the servants hasten to refill,
When they dug or await a will,
when they dared and spat fire,
Is it divine to grab another's gold,when mired?
Let them go unoticed,
Like I sit on my boil unoticed,
That day of last whistle
We shall laugh, while they wizened.
That's why am jumpy;hope you make it
'Cos it was poor of you in life's market.
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Writer Profile
Joel
Life for me has taken a new turn since I discovered the power of my pen. Poetry is the best part of me that is yet to be rivalled.
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