Skip to main content

Before I Walk Away

Before I walk away, I wrote this on New Year’s Day. Can’t really recall what triggered it though. It’s just somber and sad. It’s from way back, when I wrote a lot.


Before I walk away, I shall speak my mind
How does something so sure never come to be?
How come you and I never became?
How?
I don’t beat up myself because of us anymore
Like the pulp that was beat up to birth the gray paper on which I imprint my thoughts
I don’t

Before I walk away, I should say I don’t feel hurt that you walked away into the sunset
All things work together for good
It is for good I believe we don’t walk together anymore
I loved you,
I guess you loved me too

Before I walk away, let this note stand forever
A testament to a love that may have grown old
Let this note spring forth other notes uniting and giving me sad music
That will accompany me as I walk away

Before I walk away, let it be known that I am not sad
I never regret the moments we had
However, you my dear, you are consigned to the arms of posterity
Like the year 2012, you have no place in my calendars
I love you but its time I walk away

I have done all I said I would do before I walk away
So with gentle confident steps I walk away

For I have no reason to stay.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Nigerian banks: So much hype, so little groundwork.

This events chronicled herein truly occurred as the world spun past this morning. Today I took it upon myself to pay up all individuals and groups I was indebted to. This involved visiting three big time Nigerian banks. These transactions which could have simply been carried out with my PC, had to be done the old school way because online transactions are not common (no one I know has ever used the system), hence it could n''t be trusted. Aside the long queues and the ages it took to get served, these banks are are quite in contrast with what you'd see in the slick adverts on CNN or NTA (Nigerian Banks do ads on CNN). The staff are not that friendly, and you can waste a lot of productive time just waiting for your turn ( I kill time watching TV whenever I visit a bank) In one of the Banks I visited, (this bank boasts of ''Pan- African ess'' ) the bulk room where I went to pay in money was desecrated with graffiti on the side boards. Yes! Graffiti, scr...

I Did Not Choose This

I did not choose this life This life chose me The work I do now, I do not think I am qualified in any way to do. Perhaps however I underestimate myself (something I do a lot). That I am here now means I have to remain and give my best to it. I do not despair and feel sad that I am a teacher, far from it. Many people may feel ashamed if they were in my shoes, a few other "extra sensitive" people feel ashamed on my behalf and pray I get a more rewarding job. Please, what is more rewarding than seeing a bunch of tiny tots gobbling up every word you spit out? I'm not saying it in a disgusting way. I just mean teaching is a rewarding experience and I don't regret it. I feel it is like a process that is required of me before I'm admitted into the next phase of life. Which perhaps may be parenthood. My experiences as a teacher have taught me patience, perseverance, love and how to accept feedback via non traditional channels. I've learned to repeat something over...

Who did it?

Madam Shola had always been a very friendly woman ever since I knew her - which was like all my life. One of my funniest memories of her was when her humour made its finest appearance. It was a surprisingly rainy Sunday morning some Decembers ago, and we had just closed from church. My wife and I were dashing to the car hand in hand as it drizzled. "Mr and Mrs Lovebird", madam Shola called. I recognized her voice and stopped to say hello to her. "Good morning ma" "Sam, look at you! You're glowing" she exclaimed, turning to my wife she added "Mercy, you're doing a great job, I give you an A". She said using her right forefinger to make a swoosh in the air. We all laughed. First of all, my name is not Sam neither is it Samuel. Madam Shola had never called me by my name. Never. I'd gotten tired of correcting her and never bothered anymore. Sighting mercy's protruding belly she opened her mouth in mock surprise. "I see wh...