3 years and I return
To this blog. To do a re-run
Of sharing my thoughts, pouring my mind
To make something of it this time.
The mind however pleads guilty of being empty
So to come up with a topic, I count from 1 to 20
Zero, Zilch, Nada is where Im stuck
The blog, my life, this road with no truck
Reminds me of Cape Town, the beautiful little city
Mountains, dolphins, clouds and people oh so pretty.
One would want to live a lifetime there
And yet be out of the skin in every sphere
Getting back to the topic of topic
Everything begins with something microscopic
A context to everything is what I need
Whether its a power point presentation or my life at any speed
I ask out again to the 'Topic Gods' at large
With the concept of reel life, is my real life a farce?
How is it that I always come up with things at work
But never hit the real G spot, not even as a quirk!
Colors. Fonts. Template. Of a presentation
Fascinate me to ensure I reach the destination
But Love. Lust. Purpose. Of life
Escape me in a strife
Decisions. Precisions. I need to own up
Get a hold of things around me, bring to brim my cup
Knowledge of this is the first step they say
And yet despite having it all, all the time I sway
But I laugh, throw my head back with a twinkle in my eye
Why so serious. This too shall pass, pass around like the pie
To this blog. To do a re-run
Of sharing my thoughts, pouring my mind
To make something of it this time.
The mind however pleads guilty of being empty
So to come up with a topic, I count from 1 to 20
Zero, Zilch, Nada is where Im stuck
The blog, my life, this road with no truck
Reminds me of Cape Town, the beautiful little city
Mountains, dolphins, clouds and people oh so pretty.
One would want to live a lifetime there
And yet be out of the skin in every sphere
Getting back to the topic of topic
Everything begins with something microscopic
A context to everything is what I need
Whether its a power point presentation or my life at any speed
I ask out again to the 'Topic Gods' at large
With the concept of reel life, is my real life a farce?
How is it that I always come up with things at work
But never hit the real G spot, not even as a quirk!
Colors. Fonts. Template. Of a presentation
Fascinate me to ensure I reach the destination
But Love. Lust. Purpose. Of life
Escape me in a strife
Decisions. Precisions. I need to own up
Get a hold of things around me, bring to brim my cup
Knowledge of this is the first step they say
And yet despite having it all, all the time I sway
But I laugh, throw my head back with a twinkle in my eye
Why so serious. This too shall pass, pass around like the pie
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