I’ve trusted that the top was in my grasp,
But my hands were hit by his thoughts.
Why have I not made a different understanding!
Scarce these moments!
My heart screams but my throat hinders it’s sound,
The uttered only built an impediment,
Between my projection and their laughter.
What must I say?
I’ve strove to say the better,
It’s just not the same orientation.
It’s all a clock you see,
Ticking every second,
Only to point in the same direction,
Again and again..
Help me anyone,
To propagate my own being.
©Copyright Rex Fonseka
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