The Brain’s Empty
Sitting behind the wheels of my own phone,
issues of life filled my bow getting set
to be shot like arrow for Julie’s bone
yet nothing seems coming except for dirt.
Can three stick together lest they agree?
My soul lost appetite at what the soul
Feeds it every now and then, hence they flee
While my feeble body sits in its bowl.
Those I love to see hate to see my light
Though my bosom harbours joy for all being
I still feel forced to spit anger with might
That could make the world shrink up as a tin
When I think more, I lose the wit to think
And when I lost that wit, my brain will blink.
Bard Tosin Morakinyo