She gently touches my weedless pate

Knowing it is my passion’s gate

Testing my very strong fate

In  what may be a tasteless bait

I hold my own trying to let it abate

She keeps going making me say Kate.

Her name rises tingly passion’s hate

 And forces me to like the goat mate

My head fries in a dilemmaic oil state

My heart burns crushing the date

You deserve some gifts on your birth date

You stand in the middle and refuse your mate?

I close my eyes only to wake unclothed in fatty arms, it’s too late.

   Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 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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