I once knew you,

I was able to recognise you in the sea of strangers,

You were always like a pebble skating on the tides,

It was you against man, a god in the making, 

But it feels as though your worship is overdue,

To say the oceans beat you like the flogging of the stubborn,

Would be to paint weeds as red and sell them as roses,

As these faces you wear now aren’t worthy to be noticed, 

And I wish not to know you in this river of foreigners, 

For I myself knows nothing of the person you’ve become