Lofty Projections

How stupid a life the foolhardy strives, 

Lofty projections with his light mind, 

Stack of hays gathered over time, 

And then, a gusty wind clutters, 

And the shutters clatter, 

What seemed formidable; 

A bulwark- 

Now clitters. 

How cruelly daunting a task 

To live like you ne’er existed? 

Your heart’s both untidy and 

Servile to the lady with no pity, 

Poverty, I hear she’s called. 

The other day, someone was caught handling a phone. Either his brain wasn’t at work (literally & figuratively) on that said day or Time deemed it one too many. We may never know.
Initially, said stranger had walked up to me, seeking to charge his phone. And because, I’d seen how these things eventually play out, I politely refused him help. Didn’t take long for me to dismiss any notion of doubts building up when I saw him scampering away from one angry mob.
Now what made me write this poem was something daring he did while on the run.
This funny guy tried to jump on a moving bike and got floored…

Emmanuel “A penny for my tots”

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