Random.

We sat and looked at each other
My eyes red, his eyes searching

How could I tell him,
Of the struggles and relapses?
How could I tell him,
That it wasn’t last night’s project?
That it wasn’t a night’s project…
But sleepless nights of contemplation;
My tools aside, wondering why,
The one thing I couldn’t do
Was be free

He shook his head, and I nodded mine
He stood up, and didn’t say bye.

##

Photo by Giancarlo Revolledo on Unsplash

Categories: Poetry

Tagged as: poem poetic

Benie Langat

Benson Langat is a poet, fiction writer, and freelancer. A dreamer, he realizes a world of possibilities through stories and explores life in poetry. Benie is a dad and lives in Nairobi, Kenya.