Conscience stricken,
Defeatism controlled
I thought I saw your contrition
My desolation was the attraction
The wind in you embraced my storm
And exploded, scattering lightning
Which blinded and unblinded
Like a shellfish conquered,
My shell was left ashore
Waiting for a picker to pick
Either to grind, play with or love
Luckily, an adorable little hand picked,
Built a mansion and kept me in
Again, you show asking for clichés
You must be joking,
Bite me twice, and the scar is forever a reminder.
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014
Mum Cee 