The **** crows high into the morning sky
Harsh songs from my useless alarm can make me die

Honks of early morning blue & white buses eat my sleep
No time,sleep hasn't been this deep

And to myself I solemnly recite  
You still got plenty of time to do what's right

To get dressed, it takes you just a minute
And seconds to lace your shoe,I mean it

I clutch more tighter to my cold pillow
Turning left right as I wallow

Gently savouring the bliss of my dream
Floating like a piece of paper on stream

No pleasure can come this close
I wish time froze as I doze

Leaving this bed is an Herculean task
How does my rest hurt the world, i ask

My mama used to quote these lines
Make hay while the sun shines

And time waits for no man she said
He who invented those proverbs must have been dead

Dear mum, I beg to disagree
It's  my world and I'm young and free

The clock is just a creation with 24hours
24 isn't enough,we need a clock of ours

And I blame that device for my life ills
Verily verily, the clock kills

I lost a big contract
Eye ***** dilate,wrinkles contract

Carried over some courses
Mr. Clock was the head of the causes

I was like Y me?like the end of rhyme
Just because I couldn't keep time

Those 3 evil hands combine to make me late
But since I was born,I'm yet to be late

I didn't know the clock from Adam
Pardon me if I'm late Oga and Madam

As I go on grudgingly living my life
Not like a time keeper that makes time his wife

I know that keeping time is my nemesis
Right from the very genesis

tariran          u look too                  much like my mother to ****  ndinoda iwe                  llyrical epics of old untouchable
she the worldsekutinhira        wanted to be alone w/ u
kwedenga I            think pamakore ese anoshamisa                ari oga achishanda mumakomo
                     emakamuri
        achifamba mumasitima  wte room
             te amo como el cielo que truena.               Pienso en todos los maravillosos años que pasé solo en las cabañas de               Spanish  
the ***** sunshine\                            Miki Garcia    las colinas caminando por las verdes colinas cubiertas                
        epics of old                                 de musgo donde estás; venga a ser
                   mi nueva novia vestid              though a  de blanco       blanco de alegría será                            nuestra eterna eternidad con mi única novia en las nubes siempre       she has a delicious snooch                           saltando de cielos                   alegres                     makomo maunoisa; uyai muve oh  the        so weird is the daylight in the bluer                  room
wangu mwenga                    mutsva muchena nekuda k        Kyk, ek het jou lief soos die donderende lug. Onthou al die wonderlike
                      jare                                      ­  wat alleen in
     body      heat      for             warm           hutte gehuur is, wat die moerige
groen heuwels loop waar jy lê;                  enigma
kom wees my nuwe             bruid in wit vir                blydskap sal ons onuitge  I miss the girl
sproke  where is she from?          life is cool         ewigheid wees met jou as my enigste bruid in die immer    spring                            ende wolke van vreugdevolle lug                   angesl              wearing triangles for skirts    
wemufaro uchava    geometric love life                      cools to send      musingatauri eternty w / u semwenga             wangu oga mumakore         anokwakuka achifara kudenga Dorothy Stratten

They said loyalty pays
But I've been investing time in a system that only pays attention to favourites
The office clock ticks like a ticking bomb; not a heartbeat
Because each beat reminds me...
That I’ve been sitting on a desk that was never meant to rise with me

See; I’m the guy they call when pressure breaks bones
When deadlines **** dreams and the best hands are too burnt to build
But they never call me when there’s applause
Never cc me in the glory mails  only the blame ones
I’m the one who cleans the mess the favoured made
But still they call me second best
Like talent came with caste and titles were born; not earned

I’ve written proposals that raised eyebrows in boardrooms
Only to watch my ideas wear another man’s nametag
I’ve brainstormed so hard my mind got soaked
Yet they called it drizzle when my skies were breaking
And the man who always gets the mic
Well... his voice ain’t louder; just better connected

I prayed; oh I prayed
That the system would glitch
That maybe the gold-plated prodigy would slip
That for once; skill would be picked over pedigree
But no
He never slips; or maybe he does
And the fall is framed as flight because he’s their favourite kite
They blame the wind; not the wings

But oga; oh...  I mean boss
Yesterday; another recruiter said
"A talent like yours should be building empires; not watching over one"
He said...
“You’re not stuck  you’re stitched into a system that fears your shine”
And for the first time; my silence felt like a betrayal
To myself

So here's my resignation  not just from the job;
But from this theatre of pretend promotions plus plastic praises
Do well to keep your blessings to yourself
This flower needs sun; not a corner of the shelf
No hard feelings; but I can’t water down my worth anymore
Somewhere out there
A room is waiting
Where the seat fits the spine of my purpose
And the applause won’t need subtitles

See, my new oga didn’t ask for my résumé first
They asked for my story
Said; “What have you built in the shadows
That deserves to touch morning?”
And for once… I didn't shrink
I spoke of nights where I typed dreams into silence
Of times I offered gold; and they printed it in another's ink
And instead of doubt; I saw nods
Not the kind that pities
But the kind that says...
“We’ve been waiting for someone like you”

Here  the room breathes different
The air doesn’t smell of fear or favourites
Here  progress wears no politics
And the meeting table ain’t just a stage for sycophants with good suits
Here  when I speak; I don’t echo
I resound

They said...
“We don’t need benchwarmers; we need playmakers
We don’t clap for status; we clap for substance”
And my fingers; once blistered from holding back brilliance...
Now type freely
No masks; no mirrors Just meaning

And it’s strange  how quickly I grew
Like potential isn’t dead
Just exiled in environments where ego reigns
Now I lead projects I once cleaned scraps from
Now my name is spelled right in success stories
Not hidden in footnotes behind plastic smiles

Sometimes; I sit at my desk and remember...
That old place
Where I was a ghost in glass offices
And I almost cry; not from pain
But from the audacity of hope that brought me here

Because sometimes; favour ain't a thing you beg for
It’s a room waiting on the other side of ‘enough is enough’
It’s the fruit that grows once you stop watering dead roots
It’s the light that lands not because you chased it
But because you finally stopped hiding your sun

This one’s for the ones who stay too long
Who shrink to fit desks that were never carved for their shoulders
Who laugh in meetings
but cry in restrooms
pocketing pride like loose coins they never get to spend
For those whose brilliance is buried
under piles of silence and “Yes sirs”
and “It’s not your turn yet”

This is for you
You; who were told to wait
wait behind politics
wait behind praise that was never yours
wait behind people who knew less but knew someone
You; who knew the codes...
but not the code words
Who did the work...
but weren’t in the pictures
Who trained your replacements
while holding back the resignation in your bones

You stayed
For stability
For hope
For the idea that maybe...
just maybe...
they’d see your worth
But truth is...
some rooms are blind
And no matter how brightly you burn
they’ll never stop adjusting the curtains

But hear this:
Your light is not wasted  it’s just misplaced
You weren’t born to flicker under fluorescent ceilings
You’re not a spare part in someone else's machine
You are blueprint
Backbone
Builder

And if they won't seat you at their table
then build your own
Even if it starts with a chair and conviction

Because here’s the secret...
Better doesn’t always come dressed in promises
Sometimes; it comes in quiet exits
In courageous leaps
In nights when you whisper to yourself
“I deserve more than this”
And mean it

So go where you're celebrated  not just tolerated
Where you’re not just part of the payroll...
but part of the purpose
Where your voice rings; not ricochets
Where “thank you” isn’t currency... it’s culture

And when you get there
don’t just sit
Shine
So the next tired soul watching you from afar
knows it’s possible to leave
and still bloom