Stuck in the process of crafting a line as I chased to hold a drifting mind, Slippery as an eel, the thoughts leave. Up, down and sighs in ripples heave. From viewing gorgeous almond-shaped eyes to smiling at sweet thought-out lines. Wishing brown chubby arms wrapped me in warm hugs like King-Earl's raps! I'm caught between make-believe and reality, trying to ensure a sense of indemnity. Back to pick up from where I stopped. Perhaps, there are other ways to cope. A line today...three more tomorrow. "I'm fine", I say, "I feel no more 'sorrow'!" Just an emptiness that never gets filled, Like a space, a field, constantly filled. We throw in bakes, cream, junk and films, seeking change but chances are slim. And I'm back to that wide-eyed beam, which hurries, fading, like a sweet dream! @imanikel 24072020 Frances Kelvin Otung
imanikingblog 