The Power of the Riff

So old it’s hard to recall the motivation for this prose…

i.

Be positive,
It’s not something usual for me,
Its pessimism that got me here,
Don’t look the gift horse in the mouth,
Trampled underfoot on the road of those more ambitious.
Stand. To stand, on legs that tremble,
Nothing and everything is certain now, but not tomorrow,
Gamble. Its your risk and risk you must,
To trust, Is risk enough.

 

ii.

How long has it been since I’ve seen you friend?
My disinterested band of brothers?
I’m the bastard child of procrastination and ambition,
The not so missed but constant factor,
In some second-rate tv drama.

I wallow in self-delusion, that I might be somebody,
To some familiar but uncherished place,
This black community of judgement and hate,
Your pointlessness is not a hat I’d like to wear,
It’s just a cross I’ve learnt to bear.

My eastern sun rises over forests long burnt,
And yet still they smoulder,
A reminder that all we do is destined to end.
But I won’t go without a fight, without a war.
It was me who put the fire out,
And let the forest grow once more.

This entry was published on February 11, 2012 at 8:11 pm and is filed under Feel. Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

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