I stand and watch
As the show goes on
Beautiful drums drum.
When the drums drum themselves,
The dancers sit.
When they stop drumming,
The dancers dance their hearts out.
The audience are appalled
The dancers are seething with anger at the audiences’ ingratitude
No one seems to know what is going on
I see the anger of the drummers whose jobs have been taken over
They are pulling the strings, deafening the dancers
And angering the audience
I shout my concern but no one hears
I knock and see the commotion is taking place in a tainted out glass
I see them, they don’t see me
Poor, poor us.
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014
Mum Cee 