Every morning after the first sunrise,
With breakfast of stew and rice,
Shower on, toothbrush on, set for class,
And a look in the mirror like glass,
After this, What’s next?

With a big college degree behind my full name,
And grabbing as much knowledge under the sun’s full gaze,
With a Master’s and PhD strapped behind me,
What’s next?

A marriage handcuff on my ring finger,
A child of mine, cozy, suckling his finger,
Age pouring down its scourge like ginger,
Then, What’s next?

A Senior Advocate or a Chief Judge?
A talented Doctor or a great chef?
A wonderful parent or a mere vagabond?
Whatever the choice, I ask again, What’s next?

For time, they say, waits for no man,
A time to die, a time to be born,
A time to toil the earth, a time for harvest,
Time respects not who you are,
Time, a fixed asset, a daring athlete,
After your time runs out and your clock reaches twelve,
Is your impact in your own world any taller than an elf?

What’s next?
Some say death, for you live to die,
Some say gnashing of teeth, for hell is real,
Others say a glorious crown of peace, for heaven, our hope of glory,
Whatever the choice, I ask how you would feel
When your talent and knowledge only greased your store house,
When your money and fame serviced your generations without touching lives.

I know what’s next!!!
That my name would not die before me,
That I would shine my light for others to see,
That I would use the balm of my knowledge to heal my country
Close the cracks in my own field.

That for every man around me without a home would have one,
That for every man around me without food would have enough,
That for every child without a father,
Would learn all that it takes to be a father through me.

Time, a frail mistress, a mere smoke,
What have you done with it?
Who did you affect for good yesterday,for it’s a new day again today,
I smiled back at my reflection with my right answer,
That my existence on Earth would affect my fellow man positively,
Without pride, but with humility and grace.

THAT’S WHAT’S NEXT.

The Nostalgic Pen©