Monday, 4 July 2016

Why cry for me

When a child is born people rejoice.
When a person dies people shed tears.
Family member claiming to know you.
Friends as always scale you on your past.
I have people mourning for me.
I have judges every where I go if though I am innocent.

This journey is a for one person alone.
When we peel onions we cry.
When I die don't shed anything for me.
You could express how you felt when I was alive and kicking.
I hate two face lie who pretends.
Each and everyday I am tested by my own desires.
People want to control me

They want me to be their own pet.
Even a dog when you give something it does not like it leave it there.
I have drank and robbed even killed.
But I was never satisfied I lack knowledge.
I have a 15 years old physical appearance.
I have a 65 year old understanding and reasoning
Why when we are dumped we resort to suicide.
While we spent most of our lives being single and free.
When you are single they start to complain.
When you have a wife the say when are we having kids.
When you work when are you getting yourself a house and a car
Imagine I have been tested by unemployment?
I have run through fire for a degree?

I suffered palpitations
because of money,
I got stroke because of stress.
Why can't I be alone for a while.
You said I am haughty because I am trying to make a name for myself,
When I was jobless and stayed at home you call me a useless man.
Now that everything its on my site you claim I have pride,
What is it that you want from me?

I received all of this because I first feared God.
I cannot comprehend the love that you want to express to me.
But don't weep for me when I die
You chance its still wide open tell me now please.
Don't become an imaginary widow while free time its there
Don't become my friend if you know we could be more than friends.
Be genuine from the get-go.

Even though I have two eyes I am blind emotional.
I don't see signs that are there.
Don't pressure yourself.
Live your own life they way you want to be.
To be continued . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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