conrad_nn

www.instagram.com/wa_baatum/

Just another person trying to make things work. So, I write. Before that, I read.

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  • conrad_nn 5h

    Depression makes poetry beautiful.
    But if I learn to write on my happy days,
    I might never find need to be depressed again.

    ©conrad_nn

  • conrad_nn 19h

    Desolation

    Night stands with an open Bible.
    Trying to read my worries away with the Holy Book.
    Why must I be so destitute?
    I talk to the figure hanging on my wall.

    Open bottles so I can drink away my sorrows.
    There is some sort of safe haven in liquor.
    They say it doesn't solve any problems
    But I think they have never had the right dosage.

    Errant walks on a cold night.
    There is solace in solitude
    So I wander in pursuit of it
    Until I end up finding nothing.

    ©conrad_nn

  • conrad_nn 1d

    Pray for Change

    "Close your eyes and pray for change" they said
    As I went on and on complaining
    About the economy
    About policy,
    And about bad governance.

    Another half hour had passed
    and I had complained about everything
    Even the ones I should've handled.
    Their ears were getting tired
    And their faces turning fiery.

    "Close your eyes and pray for change.
    Talk about you problems and watch them go away."
    They looked serious
    And if I hadn't known better,
    I would've taken their advice.

    ©conrad_nn

  • conrad_nn 2d

    Death

    Another neighbour had died by accident.
    So she lamented about how bad the roads were,
    How reckless the drivers were
    And how indifferent the authorities had become.

    She even said: "God please don't let me leave like this.
    I prefer to die in my sleep.
    Than in a ghastly motor accident
    Or burnt to death"

    Even those before her had prayed same prayers.
    There was only one truth and it was that
    You could choose the way you'd live
    But not the way you'd die.
    Because once death came calling
    You only had to answer "present"

    ©conrad_nn

  • conrad_nn 3d

    Poetry

    Poetry is an expression of anxiety and depression.
    On my good days, I write bad poems;
    And on my bad ones, I write good poems.

    Poetry is an expression of love and pain.
    So I scribble my worst feelings in the hope
    That you relate and admire.

    Poetry is, but a reflection of the things we dream about.
    It is enticing and repulsive.
    It is bitterrness sugarcoated.

    ©conrad_nn

  • conrad_nn 4d

    Pressure Cookers

    Pray you don't burn or boil to death.
    Because the heat is killing you
    You didn't think it'll be this hot.
    If the fire is absent, the furnace cannot work.

    Pray the water doesn't drown you
    As you dive in even though you can't swim.
    You might get in with a diving gear
    But there are sharks to eat you.

    Pray the earth doesn't swallow you
    As you go diamond mining.
    You might get what you wanted
    But lose all that you ever had.

    ©conrad_nn

  • conrad_nn 5d

    Forgive the gods, they’re weak until you make them strong
    Then they have to prove their strength
    So they make things go wrong


    ©asafor_emmanuel

  • conrad_nn 5d

    Wishes aren't horses

    If the sun shone a little brighter
    I could find the energy to walk through this darkness.
    I could smile to its rays
    And steal from its radiance.

    If the world was a little kinder,
    Maybe we would have less depressed people.
    Then there will be less hate
    And more peace.

    If the seas could be less troubled,
    The sailors would have less worry.
    Ships would travel for shorter periods
    And everyone would be happy.

    But if that was the case,
    Life would be too easy.
    The proceeds are cherished
    Only because they were acquired in toil.

    ©conrad_nn

  • conrad_nn 1w

    Love at first sight

    Two hearts beating
    The sound is loud and so
    The feelings cannot be ignored.

    Two eyes blinking
    The truth is glaring
    The attraction cannot be denied.

    Two lips touching
    Overlapping and gross.
    The feelings seem to be mutual.

    Two hands swinging
    Held together
    As if glued.

    Two minds syncing
    They have met their match.
    They think it will last.

    ©conrad_nn

  • conrad_nn 1w

    Binding Precedents

    Blind men leading a blind man into a dark room.
    I saw them acting all-knowing and I laughed at their presumptuousness.
    They walked and acted with so much pseudo-poise
    Such that if I hadn't known better, I would've joined in their buffoonery.

    "Wise" men gathered a bunch and spread their "word"
    They chastised any sort of questioning.
    Do these or you'll have your selves to blame.
    So the sheep followed their ignorant shepherds.

    They said you shouldn't change what is and always has been.
    You mustn't question the things you met even if they don't seem right.
    So they carried on with their foolishness,
    Adamant to change even the most barbaric of their traditions.

    ©conrad_nn