Site icon Dan Ochu-Baiye

The Book Of Denial (Chapter 4)

Here we sit, oars in hand
Each paddling in their direction
I am stronger so we go my way
When I wane we go yours
Consequently we end still.
So here we sit; nothing gained…

Here we lay, blanket o’er us
Back to back, pillow between
It is cold, we are cold
You roll your way, I roll mine
So blanket ends o’er pillow.
So here we lay; nothing gained…

Here we walk, chained together
I am brisk but you stroll
Destiny ordained, our paces wrong
I pull, you tug; you yank, I stall
Inevitably it is a tug of war.
So here we stand; nothing gained…

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