Now in the arms of money
Lies the fairest of beings
Kwaa Attah, being a bird
Whose wings have been clipped by
The sharp teeth of money
What will be my fate?
I watch as perfectly painted beaks,
Claws and faces saunter like
Angels in perfect outfits walking on rainbows
into arms of apes in money suits
Nothing matters so long as the paper flows?
My grandpa told me of days
When little fruits unsold were all it took for even
The most prettiest bird to swoon
So none had nothing to clip others
Except for rules of abstinence from royal territory
Why is my time different?
Walking under this tree watching
Many of the prettiest
Battle for apes who have fun clashing heads
I cannot fly, all I do is look up
In my unluckiest day, I could swallow faeces
Alien to my species, what unfairness!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014