I love the first side of Fame,
he waketh thee up each day
seeing thyself above thy dream.
Fame spreads your name
all over nations;
makes you a model,
lavishing praises along your path.
fear the other side of Fame,
his second half
that keeps you away from normal,
prompts self-denial,
misplacement of reality
for what is called ‘masked-identity’
fear fame!
she makes you a liar,
won’t want to disappoint
so she moulds your lies as truth.
she
is
bad:
you do bad things
and she covers
you
up,
she bails you out of guilt
as
inno-
cent.
fear fame!
the second side that spit Fame-must
by force,
she hinders you from walking with
old-friends on the street
else they say,
‘Fame is wretched’.
you no longer take off
your sing-let
for an in-let
of freshness that calms the soul,
no feel of zephyr,
you’re squeezed and pressured
into a box of Fame like a cassava pulp stuck into a sack for sale.
The price of fame! Yet, the question is, as in Shakespeare’s Hamlet: to be or not to be?