I’d rather you look at me— Because the way you see me, You think I’m some type of second best.
I totally cannot fault you, There’re days I can’t help me too. When I stand in the mirror, I’m tempted to go with the rest— Maybe this cloth has a patch after all.
You’re like an old familiar place…, Sometimes like a sweet familiar sip. I know where to go when the mountains tick, Because I keep running to you— I don’t want to do it anymore…
In all my endeavours I have always been a saviour In the best of my behaviours Predicting, only to be of favour Then I realized it was just labour So I ask, what have I to offer?
He is his mother’s son, She doesn’t know that he is a stranger to her. Perpetually he is in his father’s sight, Someday his vision for him will fall to the ground. Because he’s like a loner come to town. A man of his own.
Hello. My name is Isaac. A Journalist and Literary Blogger living in Ghana. This is my blog where I publish my feature articles, creative writing and links to my podcasts. Subscribe today and receive all updates!
