The Job

Holding the job down is not the problem
Ask around
I did this for 20 years and I still got 20 left in me
My back has been through the ringer many times,
And my hands don’t remain still like they used to; I have bruises to show
But its nothing a fistful of paracetamol can’t fix


I came prepared for this life, sweat and everything
Prayed for my spirit when the flesh was weak
Even called out to the skies when I was unable to breathe.
And I never talked to an opp
Realized a long time ago it was better to talk to self,
Dialogue in madness
 
 
I had to tread carefully with all that soliloquy
Did not want to end up in a psych ward
You’re admiring the sunset’s vivid colour one day, 
Drinking again the next.
And there was joy at the bottom of that bottle, 
Believe me
 
 
But there were other things to worry about –
Wondering where the goon called time went,
Wishing we could have saved our friendship,
Or suffocating fear that grew with each passing day.
These are the main culprits 
 
 
The truth has garnered some symmetry
It gives me acid reflux knowing that Amina was stabbed.
20 years did not prepare me for this rude awakening
Indeed, I can adapt faster than a chameleon
Ask around
 
 
What I need is a fresh start.


– precious x