I woke up with some melancholic feelings this morning

I pushed through some unorganized thought and let go

Looking haphazardly around, irritated in my mind

Everything that I see seemed to be against me

With many trailing my back and monitoring ahead

Oh my God, I cried out for a hand from above

At a corner, I sat deserted to a handful of friends

They sit like strangers afraid of their host

And mindful of all eyes that takes a peep

They converse and stop at the sound of a footstep

Oh my God, I shouted, confused in my heart of hearts

A destitute in his own father’s house

Many questions without answers drive me wild

I tried the Celestial knob that brought us together

I held on steadfastly to the truth of the ages

Many tongues wagged and many legs shuffled

If men were God, the air will inhabit their homes

Don’t smile; we are sitting on a cocked pistol