I guess this is what they call… “just one of those days”
But this day seems to be an endless corridor of time and space
This day has spilled over into weeks, weeks into years
Uncertainty has metamorphasized to pain, and pain to tears
This day has become my sentence, this moment is my cell
My own thoughts the prosecution, condemning me to hell
As the evidence unfolds, incriminating and concise
I am forced to look back at every wrong throughout my life
As the accusations pile up, hope seems nowhere in sight
It feels as if I am losing all control of my own life
But just before the judge can unleash his wrath of fury
I realize that in my life, “I” am my own jury
-Fiyah
No comments:
Post a Comment