Could have been any other day,
because December 29th 86 was the day.
I saw the light, i saw it upon tears,
as i tore my line into the light of life,
a life characterized by tears,
and all day i ask myself, why?
I get no feedback always,
but why me?
please tell me and don’t tear my heart away,
blow my mind but say it,
As i sit in my small bed, too small to be small,
a simple man with a simple wish,
too simple to be simply real.
I should have been stupid,
and maybe i would not question the world.
Maybe i would have taken silence to be the answer,
to be the no in life,
to let go of all these desires,
to comply and tore the line that life has segregated against me,
to accept it as the norm,
but no! not me
and so i ask why?
why? why? why?
and all i get is silence, and more silence,
I can almost hear the sound of a falling pin.
Or needle, its a riddle!
but why? why, why, why?
For all my wishes of luck,
and all the lack of it.
For all my wishes to providence,
and the lack of a chance to it,
they say its a luxury i can’t afford,
and all my efforts to hold it,
just one time,
in this life time,
at least before the sun sinks.
Like mama promised me,
the day when the mist cleared,
and the morning dew melted,
in a wake of tears-that December 86 morning,
as an awe of five ululations filled the airwaves
to celebrate a boy child,
and Africa was blessed with a son,
who would perhaps be a warrior, or a key to the bridge
you know, that bridge that brings the two worlds together?
You ask which worlds?
Perhaps you come from mars to understand.
but why me?
Tears roll down my cheeks
as i sit in this small bed of mine,
blessed to have it, lucky it is in this one good place,
but i am still small to be humble,
still on the ground,
where mother earth decided.
And contentment is a vocabulary i only read in text,
too smart to understand its meaning,
and maybe i should have been a fool,
to fool around in full contentment,
to not question anything,
to accept the norm,
and to be small as i am, and agree that that’s how it is,
that, that’s how the earth rolls!
To agree that the third side of the coin doesn’t exist,
that the dice was rolled long before the crack of dawn
before this questionable 86 morning,
and that it was December does it no good,
for it most likely did not rain,
and this key to the bridge is just but an illusion,
it doesn’t exist-no hope to finding it,
that balance is just an inverted ideal,
which the world knows nothing about,
and that even if the world did know how to strike it,
it would be so expensive for those living below the Sahara!
why don’t i conform to this?
why? why? why?
Sometimes i cry why,
but i get no answers,
all i do is survive it-the world,
and wisdom has it that i can do something about it,
how? how? how?
the baggage is so extra,
maybe i should drop it,
and live simple as a fool would,
contentment is a luxury that only fools afford,
and i can’t!
Why? why? why?
why can’t i?