Poem #9
Like two oscillating steel beams
Anxiety and happiness steadily move around each other
The pair barely related but adequately diagnose my condition
Far sighted
My emotions blur the next step
Often found staring at what could be
Wishing and waiting for the perfect time
Reducing my gait into a mime
In frustration I mount on day dreams
Get transported to ideal
Leaving the day in it’s infant state, never to be mastered
I return only to sleep
To then be awoken by the tap tap taping of my heavy baggage
Desperate to be unpacked it waits for me every morning
And trusts me to say “okay today”
But instead I gag it with promises of tomorrow
Noma the writer 