The Cross Road
When words sound like a lost course
Who is will provide the answers to all this questions we ask
When the world feels like sinking sand
Who will beat fear to hold my hand?
When the road of life seems too long to reach the end
Who will tell me continue when am just about to stop
I am not afraid of what the world brings me
It is after all life, and it is meant to be
I cannot chose what my tomorrow becomes
But I can choose to become my tomorrow
And define my existence today
But a choice is but a choice
It may not define what becomes
Or what tomorrow may bring
When behind lies the tattered ruins
Of an interrupted middle class firmly
When our differences of reason cannot elevate
When sense make no sense
And the silence in my house
Is beyond the count of grief
I sit and take a moment to meditate
For you to read my thoughts in a poem
In the deepest end of solitude
I find a place to bury pain
What my heart cannot heed
My mind cannot feed
To corrupt my thoughts with greed
I am not afraid to be alone
Because no one is ever alone
But I am afraid to be what I am not
Like a wound left to rot
A defined sense of solitude
At the cross road
When thoughts collide
When we take a moment to weigh our load
When we all pause
To Whig history
When the sea mimics the land
Life still exist within
When the sun set to the east
And the night is left for beasts to feast
Life still exist within
When all is lost
And when all is said and done
When fun has become less fun
When all have come and gone
When there is nowhere to run
Life still exist within
When something becomes nothing
When nothing becomes something
And when ideas deceive the mind
In the interregnum
It is the journey of life
Not the arrival which occupies my mind
When we get to the cross road,
Copyright © Nobert Mathumo | Year Posted 2014
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