Poem: Turn on The Light

I could live on like this or I may not
And about whether I die, care not
Existence is so not my problem -
It’s of a different kind;
I wish neither to be normal
Nor even to be special,
What I seek is a valid solution
To the question: ‘who am I?’

I’m suffocating in my own space
Trapped in it’s sheer vastness;
I’ve framed with many dreams, walls of a kind,
But they are far too porous with so many doors,
Behind which are just more questions.
So I’m groping to steady myself in the darkness,
And all I am catching is thin air.

I could live-on on the brink of true experience
Imprisoned by my slumber and afraid to snap out
Of this nightmare of spiritual death.
Or I could just ask The One who says
That He can turn on The Light.

© 2010, Poem by Tee Akindele