The tolls wouldn’t be so cheap,
The tolls would into your sleep creep,
And, like a thief,
Leave you empty and feeling cheap
The fealty you think you’re owed would be fleeting,
Realisations of what is real would be haunting,
All these times you felt so enchanting,
Would fade to black on the back of what’s daunting.
I guess half the time I just seem to be taunting,
Moving my lips but my jaws keep locking,
Wanting to switch but always feeling bored in…
spite of the fact that everyone is clearly absorbed, Hmmm.
I guess all that’s unnecessary really,
Who ever got rich of that attention shit silly!
I guess you think I’m off my rocker a bit, clearly,
But somehow I can still see you looking, fisi
Yours in drought and in deluge,
Evans Mbora Campbell