The square sized punctures
Ripped without splatters
My heart exiled from its place,
With hanging sutures
Made to dwell on the street with the squatters

Pushed out of love to a lowly mode
Made to serve my sentence in solitary
A rich man yet with no emotional abode

Now talking to only the imaginary
My head spinning like a lottery wheel
Trying to figure out what really was God’s will

Was this part of the master plan?
Or just an unnecessary flash in the pan
My chest aching like a dog with a tight muzzle
Longing for the final piece to the puzzle
Dripping like a grandfather’s clock
Tick tock, tick tock

In pain
I wriggled like a worm
Tossing and turning
My heart palpitating with anxiety
Trying to figure where from this enmity

So fragile was my heart
That it couldn’t endure a little cut
I Hope LOVE is the answer
To the question posed by my bleeding heart.

Stephen Otu-amoah the Man standing in the gap.
Stephen Otu-amoah the Man standing in the gap.


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