By Patrick Ngugi
You behold the horizon
Scared of the sinking sun
That darkens your soul
N wish you could stop its flight
Through the vast skies of time
Dumping us into the dusk of unknown
Basking in the twilight
The dawn of enlightenment
Shines on illusion Earth
Coveted things don’t matter
Now they’re worthless, meaningless
Filthy cash in the bank, fine mansions
Cold castle made of unfeeling marbles
Falter before the altar of incurable ailment
Filling you with emptiness
Bitterness, Loneliness, regret, nostalgia
You develop love-hate affair with your wheelchair
Now your constant companion
Who how imprisons you
Gone is the vitality of youth
Old and tired bones and sinews
Refuse to obey your mind
The body defying the spirit’s desire
Funny how – family, fond friends flee
Leaving strangers and former foes
To care for you once in a while
And your adult offspring in distant lands
Only chat with you on the net
Whatsapping and facebooking
With fake love and warmth – Lols; emogis
Oozing hollow resounding laughter
Reminding you of hollow ghostly giggle
Of the horror movies of eons ago
You now realize that eulogies
Are written not with pen and paper
But with the deeds that you do
Thoughts that you think
And speech that you speak
Yes – Simple things of life
Sharing concrete yet simple things
Time, love, listening ear, compassion,
Is what mattered most
Painful memories of little joys of life
Simple things you didn’t entertain
The smiles and hugs you didn’t share
The apologies that you didn’t offer
And forgiveness that you hoarded
The compliments you held back
The thank yous that remained stuck
In your throat threatening to choke
The wealth you worked hard for
Squandered by lazybones
Bootlickers and psychopaths
When the dreaded time arrives
To which sometimes you look forward to
Crocodiles will gatecrash your funeral
To ensure you are cremated or buried to death
And sincerely weep at your tomb
A gaze again towards the horizon
Is greeted by warm rising sun
That showers a touch of nostalgia
Of time and cash loosely spent
And as they pick you to bask in the sun
Your bones hurt, as your heart
Nostalgia, regret sets in,
As you pray for the sinking sun
To hold on, albeit for few hours
©Patrick Ngugi 130518
Wow interesting
Thank you Elma