such an awful sight,
as it holds non thats fine.
that sour look of a curious fellow,
with so much lack of gusto.

usually odd in it's appearance,
always boring as it stands till it's apex.
a revealing shock of it's emergence,
and a strong doubt of it's existence.

never a centre of the tempest
nor an area of contempt
but a home of advent
and a place of precept

more than a tent for tests
for the ones who gave out their best
a point of conformity and rest
with an evidence of life well spent

often a shelter of less interest,
as it's arena are watched without reflex
just a few make efforts of arrangements
even as it seems strange in it's content

a handful may seek it with sense,
but loose it's whole essence.
only the just will enter in confidence
to see beyond all in difference.

© leo chinedu Mandah