My left hand is heavy,
my ring finger bears the weight,
the hard work of getting her a chevy,
the hard struggle of making it to eight,
the ring i have brings thoughts,
thoughts of sadness,
that feeling of entanglement that surpasses that of an ancient African slave,
look at me…look at me,
a circus with no audience,
a rainy season with no rain,
my right hand is light,
it defines life with no other colour than white,
it has zero commitments and responsibilities,
it doesn’t shy off from showing itself to beautiful women,
it’s free to roam and free to explore the no-man’s land,
this married life,
this married wife,
this sharp knife,
this overwhelming hype,
this heavy ring finger,
it’s bitterness.. ginger,
this ring i have,
the jeweler who made it,
the ring bearer who handed it to us,
it’s a shame,
but who is to blame?
Dark hands 