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Have you ever sat to ponder
The fact you are ALIVE

Who asked you if you wanted to live?
If you wanted to be
Black
White
Male
Female

Your birth a painful entry into this world
Accepted as if the norm
Now there’s pressure to be more
Than when you were born

But who asked me?

When a seed is sown and shoots
Does it think
I must grow
I must be more than the seed sown

I guess I will never know
But growth appears automatic
Choice imaginary

In the seed is the built in destiny
To be a big and fruitful tree
But then I guess it depends on the kind of seed

The variables in life appears to challenge all its meant to be
Destiny’s a hope
Of what is meant to be

What about me?

When you were a seed
Known just by cells
Identity wrapped in the bossom of the womb you were sown

Lets call her Faith
or whatever name they appear to like

You didn’t choose your name
Neither where you consulted on your height
not even your hair colour or the day you’d like to be born

Whats the cause of your existence
Is it as fickle as the hormonal surge of a man and woman
or is there more?

Its appears surreal
You are not the only one
Everyone you think is right
Have gone through this same plight

It appears surreal
Like a someone shouting ‘ACTION’
You awoke on a stage
Before you decided you liked the part
Without being rehearsed
In a readymade auditorium
Moving in freestyle
Your improvision met with the applaud of the few eyes around
oooing and cooing
Not appreciating the perplexity of the situation you find yourself

It makes no sense
Like an ingenious abstract painting
with no head or tail
Life has an eventuality that can only be seen from the outside
In refusing fatality,
enquiring

Not drifting by the sea of life
Tossed and turned like most by the waves of seasons
Shaped by the crashing on rocks of bitterness, hatred and disappointments

You can look through the painting
At the eyes that never shifted gaze
He already knows the end
Though He sits on His chair in anticipation
Hoping you can see what He sees from where He is

He knows how to make it good
not ending up dead

See before being pushed on the scene
Words where whispered in your ears
Thats why sometimes you just appear to know something’s
But they were repressed, fright
By the glam of the false lights
The eyes expectantly on you
as you danced to the rhythm on the stage of life
its beats contradictory
A mix of genres
Muddled
Some eyes faded to black
Disappointedly as you did not seem
to fulfil all that they pleased
But still you danced
Wondering when this tune will end
With each scene of life
Your act you decide
Unsure if the style will suffice

Don’t you wish you had the script
To read so you could at least
Be what you were made to be
Knowing the basic
To go beyond what’s expected
To stand in confidence
Purposely dancing to the end

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