Masked Masses

The room heaves with my sighs

its walls browning from the stewing solitude

as I listen harder pass the noise outside

I hear the familiar footsteps of loneliness

returning to its old friend

it knows where to find me

when I’m done drifting through the masked masses

today its footsteps are slow

as if scared I’ve finally found the warmth of another human

it’s just me and myself, as usual

envying the dead when times are bad

wearing the hypocritical smile when the tides turn

and I’m suddenly glad to be alive

I’ve always thought a person was either good or bad

never thought there will come a day I wouldn’t know what I am

I know not what all this is trying to teach me

By Benjamin Nambu

From: Ghana

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