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To Who Listens.

olawaliumPosted for Everyone to comment on, 4 months ago2 min read

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I come again to you who hears
The cries of the rich and poor
The healthy and the sick
That you grant me again my heart desires

I have searched for you
But I haven't found where
you reside
Where you lay your head at night
And maybe where you enjoy your free time
You always hear me though
Wherever I am, even in dark places

Here I am again
With my basket full of worries
And bucket full wishes
I hope you listen again
To the voice of this lone soul

And now,
There are days that I feel lonely
Even with companies
There are moments I feel sad for no good reason
I feel it, but I can't do anything with it
It just comes and goes freely
Like my body is a perfect container for its sadness

To you who listens,
This is my worry for today
I hope you hear it
And perhaps send an exorcist
To cleanse my soul


Thank you for your time.


My pen doesn't bleed, it speaks, with speed and ease.

Still me,

My tongue is like the pen of a ready writer.

Olawalium; (Love's chemical content, in human form). Take a dose today: doctor's order.

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