Anything ordinary today was once held in esteem;
With rarity comes respect,
And with familiarity comes devaluation.
The way we touch something new is different
For fear of tainting its freshness
Our eyes watch it like a hawk
And can tell at a whiff if it has to be tampered with;
But with time the once cherished thing becomes ordinary
It doesn’t catch your eye like it used to anymore
You throw it without minding where it will land
And when it falls, you pick it up impatiently
Unlike the way you used to massage it sometime back
You talk of replacing it
And complain about how useless it is now
Right at its face
If only items could talk!
What would they call you?
Ungrateful, neglectful and unfaithful
But who can blame you?
Ordinary never earns respect
But whose fault was it that it grew ordinary?
Insert name here.
Funnily enough, when the ordinary thing gets missing
That’s when you remember how much you need it
You remember all the ‘good’ times you’ve shared
And you feel a sense of emptiness for loss of closure;
But that’s life
Ordinary suddenly feels special again
When it disappears without your consent
And special feels ordinary
When it stays long by your side
What are you treating as ordinary today?
Who are you treating with contempt?
That faithful employee or that phone?
If they were to be gone out of the blue
Would you miss them?
Then perhaps they are not ordinary after all.
© Josephine Amoako 2017
***Kindly subscribe to my newsletter. Thanks!***