Mystic Thread Poem by Haruna Garba

I try to unravel this jumbled yarn
Slipping here, sliding there all day
Only new knots are born at the tail
Seconds misused for the hell of it

If your fingers are like mine
And your motives akin to it
Waste no further second on this
Threads of this world are wacky sets
And they all alight in a sort of mess
Sure thing, when the Hurly-burly is done

Now you could harp on this word-stir
And this when viral it has well gone
Thy eyes could as well forfeit their sweet sleep