Dear Diary, My Desiderata

Kwame just woke from his sleep,
The sleep he fell in only few hours ago
The sleep that he never gets enough
How he wish he can get thrice what he got
So he can have those nerves quiet calmed
But the link to the next move will soon expire
And he might never catch the train
If he'd emulate the honorable
With nothing except his future being equal,
He must be up on his feet and so he did
And just as usual and say casual,
He opens his diary in the poetic fashion
Allowing himself splitting into countless fractions

Dear Diary,
I know you accept my writings, as your desiderata
But what I am writing today,
Well, just let me write them first...
Some people think I like how I am
Some even think I love what I do
Few too wish I am something better
But I know none of them will ever know
They will never know how I feel inside
Not until they wear my rare face for days
Walk in my raptured boots for weeks
Or sleep in the ruins from, I just woke, for nights
They can never understand
And I do not expect them to
Because I understand them not
In as much as I wish to be like some,
Of them who become an inspiration,
To the less privileged,
The even less do I know about them
And in as much as I hate myself,
The even more I become increasingly aware
That I may not be destined to die in my struggles
But it doesn't mean something is changing soon
And that until I embrace my woes
I will forever keep hiding behind them

On the next page, like positive rage
His ink could help not but spark that flame
The flame that burnes to ashes and de-sires
You from the cord that tie you to the gone ages

I have long ceased to dream in my sleeps
Because what I see is what I believe  in
I refuse to let things go before I know their worth
Because I choose to live in the moment
To make things happen while they can
I pledge to be the help in hand for my failures
To be the strength behind my fears
I will never let myself down on this quest
And until I reach the end of the tunnel,
I am hardly going to switch channels