The sweet chiming of bells; slow passage of time
Cackling of chickens and chirping of crickets
Remind me of the future we once dreamt about
The story of my life: a true motion picture
Far more to tell than that which meets the eyes
Much harder to sell in cold weather than ice
Hold your thoughts: this is a commercial break
You sang me a song when I turned sweet thirteen
Told me to be brave when I clocked seventeen
Truly no one was there when it mattered the most
Jobless and homeless at vague twenty-three
Crispy fried chicken slowly turned sour on my lips
Joyful birthday song growing dour by the year
Please wake me up now: all this has to be a dream
Look here we are, still awake, grinding out reality
Little feet follow me as I make my own mistakes
I traded away my fears at the currency exchange
But held on to my greed, an implicit part of me
Surely I must write my story, as I try to find my way
Though you must be wary as you listen to my tale
Yet no better tale was told than one made up on the go
Tag: Story
The Unusual Poem
Let us write a poem, you and I
One that adheres to no rules
That behaves like no other poem
You have ever come across
It will trace the path that we walk
And tell the stories of our lives
To generations yet unborn
This poem of ours will not be read
Only its story will be told
It will become the stuff of myths:
The poem that never was read,
That never could be read
That even re-wrote itself
It will change its form
Every time we meet to write
It will never have a form
It will never have a name:
Only its story will be told
Toyin Taiwo © 2015
