I walk fast to report to work,
I’ve become a sensation, a kinda celebrity addressing bosses and workers
The union of three is strong
But change is inevitable, as I fall to the trap of comfort and wrong
The disciplinary committee summons me,
They just wanna talk.
The witch behind me in shadows walk,
Throwing obstacles, the full length of my path.
Choking me,
mocking me,
sabotaging me.
I stumble, fall hard, but catch a glimpse of her face
“she wears white clothes to funerals…
speaks boldly about the impending goodness.
Unashamedly so.
Has the sun not risen on me with scorn in my 3 decades of life?
Has it not by mourning revealed to me how to defeat your treason?
Am grounded in my dimension – corrupted and sinful.
Stand in your dimension and I in mine.
Address me separated by a bullet proof glass.
4th August 2014
