Working angel be her guide
Thoughts of that night hunts
Threats of a repetition
Hangs like a sword of Damocles
On her young head
She has no listener
And is not old enough to have a knight in shiny armour
What formed her cannot form another in her
That the hands of cradle joined the earth
Makes her no replacement of bed play
Working angel do your work,
Spank the skank
And save her life
Before she joins her mother in her turning grave.
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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