Who should I be?

This man that you see

Shall I eat life from the dry millet?

Or shall I put the millet in a skillet?

Find out I have crackedNo it’s not me that has cracked

That’s a fact.

It’s cracked wheat and that’s neat.

So shall I cook out my days

In the pan full of my ways?

Hear me say

“In the pan’s not a lot”

It has given me a shock.

To realise how quickly time flies.

How fast the rushing foam of the surfing loam

Wipes clean the ambitions that were lost in tradition

But it captures my heart and in my submission

I scream my pain out

Can you not hear me shout?

No. only silence remains among the dust laden frames

The perpetual rewind..

Of the torturing mind.

The death knell of the bell

The infinite minute.

That lasts but a moment, then lives on forever

In the sea that is never stilled whatever willed.

The lifeskills we learn

The roads that we burn

As we hurtle to dawn to the light as we’re born

And the pain when we die.

Who should I be?

This man, who stands before thee

This man who licks all his wounds

Races through empty rooms

In the dead end of streets

In the people he meets

In the soil of his soul

Where he hacks out the coal

As I hack out my hate

And weep at my fate

But I am..

This man who before you, you see

He doesn’t know you

You don’t know me

And nor do I.



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