My Special Friend

Sometimes I sit and stare for hours
They say his presence is here but I feel nothing.
Week after week Sunday after Sunday
The words are spoken and heard but hardly ever felt.
I clap, I shout, I know the words by heart but sometimes it’s all a farce.
Sometimes I think he’s probably made up by fools who know no better
Who make up rules and form tales of wistful hereafters.
Sometimes I just want to do my own thing.
Meet the man of my dreams, have a couple of kids and travel by boat to Timbuktu.
And when I’ve finally convinced myself that perhaps he cannot be real, found or known
Alas, there he is knocking at the door of my heart
He’s patient, he’s kind, he’s always a gentleman, never rude, never hasty
Always willing to take his time, but persistent.
I ignore him sometimes, he annoys me sometimes but I find it hard to resist.
He asks me to sup with him, to dine with him, to sit at his feet, he asks for a lot and I’m afraid to give
He knows I will struggle, I like to be in control I do not know him, I cannot trust the unknown.
But I have to admit that when I’m alone I often think about the hole in my heart that only he can fill.
For he sticks closer than a brother and loves harder than a mother.
He knows my fears, he sees my secret tears, he understands my pain and looks beyond my flaws.
I will probably never be quite good enough,he knows, I may never respond to him the way he wants me to, I may even out rightly reject him and be downright rude.
But he’s always there knocking, seeking and asking to be my friend.


Welcome to my blog!

As far as I can remember I’ve always wanted to write. As a child I wrote poetry and short stories,I had imaginary friends,I would completely get lost in my own head and create story lines and plots .

But somewhere along the line,I grew up and traded passion for practicality. First of all, i tend to be highly self critical, i didn’t think my work would ever be good enough to even get published, so i didn’t really want to try because of fear of failure.

Secondly,I thought what if I get bored or tired and have nothing to say,or what if what I say doesn’t make any sense. I thought about all those things.

Now a couple of years later,I’ve decided to start writing again,mainly because I always have ideas, thoughts and conversations and I have no real outlet for them,and because self expression and the ability to convey thoughts and ideas into written form is a gift that has been given to me by my creator that I should express.

My subject matter is broad and diverse, i talk about my take on faith,love,friendships and all other things we millennials love, but most importantly i like to be honest and sometimes personal in my writing, i want to connect with my reader, i want them to see a little bit of themselves in me, as if my words are a personal diary.

Do enjoy.

With Love Ndidi