Forget the poetry. I am coming straight, at least with myself. Memories can be so painful at times. Sundays, to be precise. That's when i have time to think. Its offending how the past plays itself out in my head with devastating clarity, throwing me off balance. Sundays are days of resignation, because i severed my links and others topped it up by burning bridges. There are no questions. Which is strange. There should have been anger, hurt and heartache. But i maybe i did not feed my ego so much as to ask why i should not be important enough for people. Why should i be? I am not Helen of troy for one, I am not Mother Teresa. I am just, me….
The important thing still is, if, through everything i face, i can still bring about a light moment for someone, if i can be responsible for a smile on someone's face. Life is bittersweet. You cant escape it. But now that I am here and have been through highs and lows, i pray it does not go in vain.
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