Poetry

A slave of my thoughts

My freedom is not free I’m a slave of my thoughts.

I fluctuate between decorated flaws as I was taught to believe that opportunities come in numerous folds. I was to stroked while the iron was hot but I let the hammer slipped off my hand.

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I was to fly up the moon without wings, but I let my wings got drenched in shambles.

The sky was to be my limit but I limited myself in my cosy blanket and my decisive bed.

Now I’m lost and my foot is chained in the chains of the walls of Babylon where men swim in their tears of regret.

I don’t want to be a slave of my thoughts anymore I must cut off what’s forbidden so I can free myself from all burden and start afresh.

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Festus Conteh

Festus has been volunteering in writing stories of social issues at both community and the country at large. Festus was looking to secure a brand new opportunity in an innovative, friendly atmosphere where he can utilize his soft skills and in-depth knowledge in story writing. He can also write a project proposal of any kind.

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