Co-Pilot
I sometimes feel like a co-pilot in my own thoughts. Floating in mid-air, Letting them take me on different trips. No handle bars to hold on to, So I always have no grip. When drowning in this pool of thought, I swore I would never take a dip. But, Here I am clinching tighter to my heart and Hoping to dear life that I never slip. Slip into a place where I lose control of my thoughts. Becoming practically incapable of making a choice. Then watch my conscience lose it's voice. I don't think there's a sadder sight than A wise man trapped in a confide space with no way to escape. When I walk in these city streets. I'm always harshly reminded that having a bed is a luxury, That these shoes could have been on someone else's feet. Then, I sit and wonder what good comes out of the lives I see living on these Pretoria streets. Did they just accept defeat? Or, Did they go where ever the wind took them like stems of wheat. ...