The Simple Life of a Drifting Wood
What am I to you
But a piece of drifting wood,
Lifeless and devoid of any direction
For while it is ,
it has always been of me
And as it flows i am dragged
along with it
What is peace to me?
Having no objections
Or no purpose of intention
I am being dragged to unknown regions
Sunk to varying depths of currents
Twisted and resisted
Adorned in gashes
Flayed and enslaved
by all those that are elements
What am i to you
But a piece of drifting wood
Drenched and weighted down,
Existing to be refuse
Despised not to be burnt,
As my should purpose
Where I am going is
Unknown to me
Just a piece of drifting wood
Being baked in torrent storms
Scarred by inflicting
Bleeding through tears
What am I to you?
Drifting wood?
Refuse?
Copyright © Sizwe Hlabisa | Year Posted 2017
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