My mind’s a snail’s trail winding down…
Glittering triumphantly over the mountain peaks of each day
A fragmenting centipede of dead ideas several years long in my wake
Constantly chasing its growing tale, that’s come full circle
Trimming a slimy, scenic garden path through stinking fears and doubts
A fragile shell left completely exposed to any soulless sole
On a slippery slope to reaching the top shelf of the trophy cabinet
Clinging instead to the empty, dark spaces of the wall calendar
To wrist some important minutes of business success because only time will tell
But personally, to rest a ten rand note and selfishly leave a blank memory.
The colourless silhouette of an insipid mind, to dull curious thoughts.
Don’t let the dust from my ashes blind you to who I really am or was
Let the blowing wind carry me, for I’m truly not worth your tears.
Oh, I’m sorry, my apologies, for I poke and then I gently stroke you into a joke before I choke…
I’m an aspiring writer. A lover of music and poetry. A sketch artist recently turned sculpture. Using plastic bottles and caps. A recycling and waste management business owner. A father and obedient son.