VICTORS OF THE SPERM WAR

They are accursed

And it is their fault

For winning the sperm war

And swimming to the earth’s shore

 

Starve them,

Verbally abuse them,

Chain them,

Beat them,

And humiliate them

Because it is their fault

 

They are accursed

And it is their fault

For winning the sperm war

And swimming to the earth’s shore

 

When the bodies stayed in each other

And the breathes played innuendos and crescendos

When laughter turned into passion

And tears meant wanting more under the dark sheets

They sent themselves to be planted without farmers

So do it all with intensity, for

 

They are accursed

And it is their fault

For winning the sperm war

And swimming to the earth’s shore

 

Vessels filled with hatred

Mortals with no sympathy

Who frighten and kill their younger souls

Under the pretense of being wronged

Farmers without good plans

Who throw seeds around only to water them with potent poison

 

Crafters of evil

Who love passion but hate responsibilities

Fie! Fie! Fie!

Go on your deeds with vim and vigour,

Shine the silvers with coal tar and expect them to sparkle, cooks with no morals,

Your reward must be on beds of red roses full of thorns, so you continue with passion

 

For they are accursed

And it is their fault

For winning the sperm war

And swimming to the earth’s shore

   Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © 2014.