He stretches it
And my face lit
All set in the happiness kit
Hiding life’s beatings and hurt that in my chest sit
But the torturous hand moves up a bit
And a bit
And a bit
Out of my reach
In faith I jumped high like a dimwit
With my legs suffering from the ground hit
Then it dawned on me to quit
Before I fell into the bottomless pit
Because the trapped hand will still remain with its uncanny wit
Even after I no longer have the worldly chit
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © 2014.
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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