Don't scroll, search for it here...

Conjolted Poetry

Conjolted Poetry

Wednesday, 21 January 2015

Ivy

Ivy

I often find comfort in my ways-
till you put me in my place.
Oh so cold your sting rushes through my skin,
and all those things that don’t belong to me;
Suddenly, bring me to me knees asking GOD

Why oh, why me?

Why do I walk till tomorrow yet my friend drives today?
Why do I empty dry pockets as some spill money on the floor?
Why do I feel the need for my friends collection of Adidas galore?
Why do I seek love here and there knocking door to door?
Why do I want beef yet I have plenty of  fresh beans?
Why do I fail to acknowledge patience and give into selfish whims?
Why do I struggle to compete instead grow and achieve milestones?
Why do I whine over small things yet god has big things in store?

Why do I want more?

Ivy, oh ivy,
why do you drive me crazy?

Why do we desire king size beds for us to slumber,
yet for some the pavement only gets colder?
Why do we want vehicles that move faster,
yet villagers walking bare feet are getting jiggers?
Why do we swirl and twirl our tongues like Oliver twist,
to binge in feasts as if we lack food like those on streets
Why do we strive to achieve the "finer things,"
yet paupers have no access to basic needs?

Why do we want more?

Ivy, oh Ivy…
Why do you dive us crazy?

You rush through our blood
like lava down a valley-
burning all that makes us feel;
content and with contempt-
you temp us to seek what we don't need,
yet what we want is an illusion of need….

Ivy, oh Ivy,
You're killing me with your poison.
Envy is the enemy;
let me be, let us be!

No comments:

Post a Comment