'My Days'

My days I mean days of maturity with no sincerity and therapy
Are all days of loneliness with unhappy opulence
My days full of no therapy even when dismayed
Days of no love even when feeling dejected
Days of no reception when rejected and maltreated
Like Jabez do I dine and wine alone in my little premises
I mean my premises yielding little promises
Days of sobriety, I never knew exhilaration
Days of sobbing tears I never knew a Davidic life
Days of hunger with food in my bans to serve millions
Days of heat with cold water to recuperate
Yet I never dim it fit to wash this away maybe ignorance
There are times I thought of existentialism
On this leas created pleasantly now seems boring
The one I met was garrulous and covetous
Could I ever draw one second happiness out of this I contemplated
She always demand and never satorated
I knew this was never true love but rather pretence
Of my opulence and wealth I never brag was she attracted
I knew this was from fry pan to fire
Who is the damsel that will forestall a happy day for my banes
Who is to make me swim in the occean I have been
Longing to stay unsatisfied, no soothsayer could again soothsay
The 95% of those thought competent was never
Do I go out of this world with no descendants?
Oh! this is my bane, I never knew which to choose
Till maybe heaven may precariuosly predict I speculate one day.

by Israel Dammy Ipaye

Comments (1)

Puts for contemplations in life's future well.