His head droops down


By Lilian Wairimu

As he sits,

Shaping his lips to an imagined love heart,

His head droops down

Down; is it the heavy thoughts?

Or the drink before him,

Stretching his hand,

A snap of his fingers

To showcase that he is part of the conversation;

Head; too heavy

Heaviness, a concept too familiar

Or is it a stranger that knocks often;

Here we go again;

Rollercoaster it is,

My ticket cannot go to waste, he convinced himself:

I am a man; I sire humans; I am a man.

Last thoughts as he pukes his mind away,

A gentle hand rubbing his back…

Be strong, it will be well

The gentle whispers reach his ears;

“One more drink!” The whisper turns to a shout,

Gently rubbing…

Rubbing, offering, sense of security?


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