In these four corners

I surreptitiously crawl

Shutting mute entries with a threatening brawl

While the banners of thoughts are rooted in my head’s corners


In this dark self-confine

I ruminate, no, I contemplate

On whether to zap out this life and put it on a plate

For those with stochastic opinions that will fit fine


But that budding life without any backing patriarch

Who is dependent on only me

And those souls that boarded the same womb with me

Whose future rest on only me, blackmail with sympathetic body march


What am I to do?

Who sews the only seamstress’ clothes when her hands have been severed?

Who listens to the listener when her ears are full?

Who can see the sweat of the goat through those tick hairs?


Darkness hides me best

But fears will not make me rest

Fears that may never materialize, within my closed eyes dance

Taunting me and telling tales of what I am; a dunce


One day it will all end

It will all end any day

Why will I take the job of another when there is no fees?

Yes, in my anxiousness and disappointments I will wait even if it takes eternity.

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © 2014.



By amoafowaa

Just a simple Ghanaian trying to find the best in our society. I may be fun, I may be interesting, I may be funny, I may even be foolish or intelligent, but it is all based on the mood in which you find yourself. I believe our minds make us who we are. Know that, pain, no matter its 'unbearability', is transient. Unburden or delight yourself for a while in my writings please. And all corrections, advice and opinions are welcome. Know that you are the king, queen or royal on this blog. :)

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