BY GLORIA O’KOYE
Years trickled down in a time vault
But the world is still moving.
The city lights continue to flicker
With no signs of anyone pausing
Each day felt like a year
In the concrete battlefield,
On a constant watch
With backs against the walls…
So ice picks, or creative sharpeners
Pierce not the skin or eyeballs.
Too many snakes slither amongst the crowds of forgotten souls
Each second counts
Each breath is precious
When there is no guarantee for a safety net.
Even alliances formed within the hell’s space,
Can quickly turn ugly when alcohol and substances taints the blood cells
Even if the intention was for the minds to escape.
The things the outside took for granted
Could be the breaking point
And a one way return ticket to the belly of the beast.
A one way route back into a cycle
Where it could had been prevented
If there were friends
And people who genuinely cared.
