The Story Of Your Life

The Story Of Your Life


What you are about to read is neither a song
Nor the musings of a madman all day long
You might want to call it a poem
Or use it to clear your throat of phlegm
Your sighs say they are the rantings of a drunkard
Maybe the confused chants of a retard
Aware of these; i will continue to write
And like drowsy ants to sugar, loony coots i invite
These words i want to be; like probes
Prying into your phyches, itchings in your celebral lobes
No, this is not an exercise in braggadocio
Nor the vain blabbings of an act of fellatio
It can rehabilitate your warped thought processes
Or send you down hell's inner recesses
What you make of it i dont care
' cos it about to expose- your secrets laid bare
Yes! desperation rattles your heart; you are going extinct
The message you see is now becoming distinct
Ding-dong-ding time as you know it flies
Like a bird of prey, it feeds on your lies
Is this poetry? Your terrified soul ask
The answer you want comes; a lazy man's task
Still here it comes, the genesis of your story
That of a twisted life steeped in allegory
But it must be told to heal you of this lethargy
I'll rather let your mouth spurn it
This is the story of your life, tell it bit by bit.

c Endi
Port HarcourtNigeria.


D: To all those who had done something "real weird" in their lives.C'mon, tell it and sell it!



Poetry is truth in its Sunday clothes.
-Joseph Roux, priest and writer
(1834-1886)