Nothing Ever Did Poem by Chukwuebuka Adebayo

Looking at the days that had past me,
where shadows lingered as old friends,
the seasons shift, yet the air is stale,
and the clock ticks,
but time wears a shroud of dust.

Every morning, the sun spills gold
over rooftops,
but the laughter echoes from yesterday,
the same worn paths tread by weary feet,
the same stories whispered
in the fading light.

Windows frame the same old scenes—
a child rides a bicycle,
the dog chases a leaf,
and the old man sits on his porch,
watching life unfold
like a well-rehearsed play
with no new lines.

Even the trees hold their breath,
their leaves tremble in the wind,
but they know the rhythm,
the cycle of life,
the promise of spring that always returns,
yet leaves the roots unchanged.

Here, the clock strikes the hour,
and the world outside moves on,
but in the stillness,
nothing ever did, nothing ever will—
the same faces, the same dreams,
the same whispers of hope
cradled in the arms of yesterday.

And so we dance,
in circles that feel familiar,
where the heart beats to an old tune,
and the soul wanders,
searching for something
it never knew it lost.