My wick is burning down my candle
On the realms of a little conflagration
Must I abase myself with the knowledge of extinction?
Am I to sit watchful in this ticking competition in an exciting cabaret
For fear of my wick being pulled out by a cabal of lovers within my cycle?
Am I to sit and dedicate all my thoughts on the whole caboodle of life?
Even the dachshund wags its tail in happiness, barking when need be,
Running when it sees fit and dancing to the tune of human masters
I’d rather live fair dinkum,
Laying my statements unvarnished,
Caring not if I’ll be able to afford a gabardine in the cold
Than live like a sabre toothed tiger with a lonely heart till my candle fades.
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © 2014
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