Happy for nothing

So the radio aired that our lots in life had outweighed that of my friend Job,that bipolar the doctor said got our premolars older,yes! that our plans to make things better never worked out,yes! The hospitals had now become busier than the marketsquares,that our losses outweighed the gains life had thrown at us,oh yes!,that instead of breaking free,it was a resume of relapses,panic attacks,even doubting our existence, physically we look able but deep down we feel disabled. We forget we are still alive.

But I ask, when last did we kit up so well not for a function but to take a walk and observe our environment, take a gaze at the rhythmic flight of birds in the sky, watch the lizards fight over territories that humans walked past everyday.

Yes when last did we walk to the road, its middle, not for a suicide attempt but to sit and take a picture.
Oh yes! when last did we leave our minds empty for some minutes with nothing to bother us.

We forgot how to dance to the beats, we forgot we could still do the legworks,why? Because our minds had been accustomed to mood swings, getting sad for nothing.

If we can be sad for nothing, can't we be happy for nothing? If we could ask "Is life worth living?" couldn't we also answer why life is worth living? what if things get really better and our smile muscles have become atrophied and our frown muscles hyperthrophied. Would we have to hit the gym to fix it up?

But what if things stay the same till we had a taste of the real life, wouldnt we wish we had made a smile out of a reason for a frown? Let's make our enemy confused, he does deserve to be.The moody days will come, lets be happy for nothing today, tomorrow might never come, the key is there, you know where? RIGHT IN OUR HANDS, JUST THERE...


newest cul dude pens...
Dedicated to queen laka

Far from home

To the heart of a continent, there we shall set sail
We tried to protest but to no avail
Ours is a journey not of our will, for on it we wail
Row, row they scream and with whips they strike.
Our faces filled with tears, for we all look alike
Our fathers heads, pinned on spikes why? We are black
Food, clothing, this and many more we lack
Yells and abuses, screams all on our head, they say we are slack
If we fall asleep or faint they whip and say we are whack
Our spirits have been broken, we try to see our future, but it's all too dark
Our captors have no regard for us, to them, we're freaks
Monkey they call us at all times, and yet we have been starved for weeks
How long will the monkey labor without banana, as we beg to die
The young ones as consolation simply ask, God why?
Why did you make us this way, we never requested to be black
All we prayed for was to have a good life and make our mark
Now all we wish is "time, just turn back!"
We look back, in the general direction of our homes
We look back at our former lives that are now lost to us
With hands chained together, the only consolation we have is trust that our homes are not lost.
Some of us were sold, the majority of us were taken away by force
Our memories of home gradually fade away, we are forbidden to speak to each other, and that's the worst
Oppressed, dominated and scattered about, our heritage we have lost track
Bruised, broken, bleeding and sore we step onto the slave mongers market.
They tear us apart like wolves in a pack!
Oh! a foreign land we have come and here we shall die, for us, there will never be a going back




Southside TBM OrionArt