THE COMMON CURRENCY

I might not get up with the birds the next morning,

It pierces through my heart,

Yet they say it’s the common currency,

And obviously, 

A man whose pain is nothing more than a common currency,

Will say.

The unpleasant sensation and emotional experience, 

Fails not to leave,

My conformity in this has no value,

Rather worthless and hopeless,

The Wrath of my heart.

This war will not end,

With every mile my body and spirit break,

Do I spend the common currency too?

I tense endlessly,

Not knowing which will arrive first,

The bullet that takes my life or my final chance for redemption.

© ADEBANJO, Abiola D