No Hope Lost.. Lukman Nurudeen writes

 

I've forged a link with the world bodily and with my world
And I could see it's replete with woes.

The odds are stacked against me at a rate of knots
I came of a poor family in stick-to-it-itiveness.

Find a hole for the rough night whence
The sky, clear, studded with stars translate my unremitting hunger.

At the cold light of the day I stretch my legs
To panhandle with empty stomach.

And carry along with me suicidal propensities
at the posterior part of my brain.

Totter in a hot and sultry day stones arising uncannily out
Of migraine from the very start of indisposition to its nadir.

I solidify attention to the present
And grieve not for the future nor over the past.

For I am the son of the moment
Cladded in undying hope.