January 1, 2021 Off By Cornelius Kipkosgei


A bank of huge dark clouds
Stand on my way in the horizon
I thought I had had enough on my plate
I thought the coast was crystal clear
The more I face the heftiness afront, I falter
And so does yesterday creep and seep.

On the middle of a lonely road I stand
Bruised, confused and bemused
I reassure myself again and again
Of a tomorrow hiding within
Yet the wind whispers; he has nothing, not even hope
And so does fading voices linger; poor boy, he is an orphan.

© Cornelius Kipkosgei