MAYBE: The Uncertainty, Me (A Poem)

Maybe

Uncertain

How do I live now?

Maybe

Uncertain

How do I live with the ifs, whens and hows?

The road goes on and on

But I can’t see past my nose

There’s a long way to go

But I’m a blind man on this road

A blind man, I am, only with my eyes

My mind, imaginative

Guided by wholly thoughts

Tossed and kicked around by fear

And kept grounded by hope

My mind, a battlefield for optimism and his wicked handsome step brother pessimism

Pouring forth endless questions

The answers, uncertain

The answers, not answers.

Maybe

Maybe I’d find love

Maybe I’ll find peace in the arms of the woman I love

And we’d have two kids, a boy and a girl or a girl and a boy whichever

Maybe it will be happily ever after with the turmoils in between

OR

Maybe I’d never find love

Maybe I’d be the miserable fun uncle who would always get asked “uncle when are you getting married?”

Alone, sad and unfortunate.

Maybe

Maybe I’d live a full life

Fulfilling and uplifting

Maybe I’d help people find themselves, help them find their place here

Maybe I’d help them find them happy

Maybe I’d be a blessing

OR

Maybe

Maybe I’d lose myself

Maybe

Maybe I’d find myself in the midst of men, lost themselves, looking for pieces of their being in women they laid with trying to find themselves.

Maybe

Maybe I’d be famous

My name pouring out of everyone’s lips

Maybe my artistry would mean something

Maybe my art would touch a heart

Maybe my creativity would change a life

Maybe my creativity would change my life

OR

Maybe

Someday, I’ll be a sad man

Eating off a stranger’s table

Telling stories of what could have been, telling stories I thought of but never told soon enough.

Maybe

Maybe I’d die young

OR

Maybe I’d live long

Maybe my kids would scream “daddy is home” whenever I get back home

OR

Maybe

Maybe they’ll say “that man don come back oh”

OR

Maybe I’ll never have kids

Maybe

Maybe I’d fear death

OR

Maybe

Maybe I’d realise early enough that the fear of death is a cancer to living.

Maybe

Maybe I’ll never get to choose

Maybe I’ll never know

Maybe it is out of my hands

Maybe

Maybe it’s all my choice

Maybe all I have to do is pick up a pen

Maybe all I have to do is write

Write precisely

Exactly how this road is going to look like!

‘ Fikayo

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