My Perception
It is hard to make sense of the world
When you are stuck in my wall.
I have ran so many races
That only earned me a broken face.
These words are the reflection of my woes
I can't but keep watching my folks turn foes.
Unarguably, my today is not a reflection of my past
Because in my yesterdays, I faced all battles, I didn't pick my tasks.
But my gold is often given the price tag of coal
Leaving me no choice than to clock-walk alone.
You see, it is hard to make sense of the world
A place where the best are left to eat their words.
I gave my blood when my sweat was not enough
My dream in their noses like an African snuff.
I give ears to their worries, none to mine
My visions are like lads stories that should not be taken to mind.
My case is before a judge desk
Who sleeps and dine in my accused nest.
Still, they want me to make sense of the world
Where the best gets the worst and the corrupt gets the award.
Is there any sense to really make of us?
Are humans really worth making sense of?
You see, don't waste a lifetime trying to make sense where there is none
Instead, strive to make something out of what can be done.
Copyright © Victor Ernest Osong | Year Posted 2018
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