A PEN for TWO

She said, "I am not supposed to be experiencing all these. I am not expected to be suffering like this. I am supposed to leave. But because of you, I won't." She also said, "My mum left when I was twelve, and I don't want history repeating itself; so I would stay to take care of my kids myself. Just because of you, I will stay." The complaints are laid usually, The beatings increased gradually, Arguments occur more frequently. Alas! It seems like love is lost. My heart is aching. My heart is breaking. The once "I won't leave, I won't be leaving" became "I fear, my feet are shaking." The preaching of "I won't be like my mom" became "I will teach you how to live without a mum." But why?! Why do we have to mourn when she singlehandedly took her decision? Chinua Achebe is the author of _'Things fall Apart'_. My mum and dad were the reason things fell apart. I thought we would always live as a whole, not...

 [Based on “Our Generation” by Ayodeji] Hail my generation! Salute the good, the bad and the ugly. Respect them that are crude and rude, And them that are good and true, Salute them, ‘cause they have it all in one. Hail my generation! They know what they want from life, Yet they are confused by what life gives. They are a bunch of intelligent creatives, Yet they hold on to fetish beliefs. Hail my generation! They are lazy as they are hardworking, Weak as they are strong; They are sinners as they are saints, Demons as they are angels. Hail my generation! The true definition of loyalty, you’ll find in them, The true meaning of betrayal, they’ll help you see; The true meaning of love, they’ll help you feel, The true meaning of heartbreak, they’ll help you hear. Hail my generation! The ones who choose to stand for what’s right, And also the ones who paint wrong right. The ones who are righteous in sin, And the ones who ignore the truth for fun. Hail my generation! Their potenti...

  HOLD MY HAND  All that surrounds me  Is a stench of fears, Suffocating the buds of faith  That attempt to sprout  From fallen graces.  My fingers tremble  At the grip of expectation; They bleed uninjured,  And die of weakness.  Hold my hand even now,  And save me from these fires  Devouring my soul.  ©1916

 A BLESSING OR A CURSE? There are many definitions to it From those who have experienced it— Enjoyed or got burnt by it— And those who haven't, And clearly are afraid To have a taste of it. To some, it is a gift, A blessing given only to few. It is strength, it is support, An awesome feeling Granted to the lucky ones. And to some, it is a curse Bestowed on the unlucky. It brings weakness Along with vulnerability; A dangerous feeling That, once wild, cannot be tamed. And to some, it is just something Whose existence they're not sure of; Something from imaginations, That happens only in movies and novels, But never in reality. What, indeed, is love? A blessing, a curse or a delusion? A feeling to look forward to Or one to steer clear of? ©Daisy.

MAYBE I SHOULD BE LIKE OTHERS I am in a bit of a daze. I tell myself, “Look at those flaccid bits; There lay the logs, That used to be the jungle  Of my childhood dreams.” “Don't be amazed,” I replied, “These leafless branches and twigs  Are for your papier-mârché degrees.” So I listen to my second self for once; The more logical, cynical and satirical one, Treading on the plot of their paper works, Playing crosswords as anxiety uncorks. My thoughts turn to the bankable orcs, Just as my career forks. Maybe I should be like my mother; Marking numbers on a deck of cards, Waltzing with chance. Maybe I should be like my father; Toiling for some rich man's grandson, Seething in Trance. Maybe I should be like others; Going along with the system, Thanking myself. Beneath a cap, a diploma,  And a piece of paper, I wore these books  Like a tuxedo of bank notes. ©T_Genetics  

The world is ending, or maybe it already ended, And what's left of it are things that would end with it. Funny to think eh? Soon, there'll be nothing left for you or me here. I don't think there's anything left for me here anyway. No, I'm not suicidal. But, living in a world Where nothing is right would do your head in. Having to question what's worth living for everyday Could deprive you of your sanity; Having to be weary of who you walk past in the street, And looking over your shoulder to see who's trailing you home; Having to run a mental background check on everybody you come across– That could make you mad. But I'm not mad at that, no. I'm mad at the fact that I've looked forward to having A family of my own, all my life, and now I'm not sure I want that anymore. I'm mad at the fact that, I've loved my unborn children all my life, And now I don't know if I want to see them anymore. No, wait. I do want to see them, But I don...

To get to the destination, There must be a path followed. For success is a feat worked out, It cannot just be borrowed. There are processes carried out Before you get the tree grown. And more patience is required For the taste of the fruit to be known! Have your dreams and start to work! Don't lay back and close your lids! Set those goals and push forward; Clear your farm of weeds! Pay no mind to shouts around Of other people making wins. Be not distracted and keep working To get to the end with the best means! Set your mind on working right! Get to the end with the right process! Don't be like those who close their eyes And dream of overnight success! When you've achieved your aims And withstood multiple blows; When you're where you should be, Success would meet you in continuous flows. ©T.F.C.