The broken compass

The North Pole is not the only force guiding your compass.

You’re strong,

Sometimes stronger than me.

You’re brash,

You’re contradictory.



When you listen you don’t listen to me

My mouth opens but it’s your thoughts you hear

The end product you see.



What is there to work on?

We are two poles apart;

Two different continents,

Two different understandings of intellect

And the heart.



Two different languages

Two different cultures.

Two different wires

Spark and boom – fire.



Too late for water – its dried out

In the desert of my imagination.

On the camel whose lost its head

No compass, in circles,

Preparing me for life lessons laced in short-term regrets?



Silly rabbit tricks are for kids,

I say stop.

No more listening to you spiral your jibberish,

No more maybe you thought that, maybe you implied this.



I’m out “mate”, I am tired.

To peace and

Perhaps

another lifetime.