Shredding pistils

On a mirage, I go gazing
It seems am evanescing
Into shadows of myself
Playing sad songs of faulty clef

I heard you mock my empty belly
Not all flowers bloom that early
Night and day, both can not be on
At same time, hence they take turns

Keep your polishes to yourself
I have accepted I am the shelf
Which termites have so devoured
An also-ran, am not favored

But in all gains, there is a pain
And when I fail now and again
Let’s just say, my success delays
Fruits shall come out from my decay.

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Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu