Olukemi Omoyeni

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Olukemi Omoyeni
Thursday 7 December 2023

Where does it really get lonely?

Where in this cycle does it get lonely?

At what point,

Could man hear echoes of his own pain?

At the top?

Where you buy emotions and reactions,

With rubies and other treasures?

Maybe at the bottom,

Where the scoff and neglect abound,

Right in your ruddy face,

Where the echoes of man's pain is heard,

From the constant bangs of scorn,

Scorn from people of familiarity.

So again I'm prodding, 

Where does it really get lonely?

At the top?

When life presents all its finest roses,

Or at the bottom,

When man goes ringhollow

In the pit of life's lowest moments.

Loneliness is served severally,

Quag, mire, or quagmire.

Just a melting point of semantics.

The car came with only one steering, 

To be in control, it's singular, 

Very singular. 



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