In the scorching sun
In the raging storm
In the pouring rain
Some sit in tattered apparels
Others seek attention with friendliness
Holding unto the sweet,
The angered,
The kind,
The unkind,
Just for some sustenance
Not only for themselves, but for grown mouths
While strong working limbs sit in shades
Waiting for their wages
Why is that?
Are our offspring gifts to be nurtured and pampered
Or money bags?
Are they to be pushed to attain heights
Or made ridiculing beggars?
Are they to pay for the nine month’s rent
Or for a year or so feeding with their whole lives?
They are gentle souls nonetheless
They have no faults
They just need to be loved
Why make them objects of mockery
In no other place than neighbours homes?
They could achieve so much
They could attain so much
They could give you so much
Why settle for less?
May your souls be touched
As you look into their eyes at their work places
They might not know much
But their eyes will tell tales of shame
With every unfriendly soul they encounter.
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © 2014.
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