
Papa’s pipe must be filled,
Because he gave me life
Not because he took care of me,
For blessings from the gods.
Mama’s clothes must always be new,
At any occasion because she gave me life
Not because she took care of me,
For blessings from the gods.
My siblings; twenty and one
Must be fed by the labour of my sweat,
Not for anything but for staying in the same womb with me,
For blessings from the gods.
My pate is Pressure’s most treasured seat,
The government; my horrible enemy
No matter who sits on it,
For they recognise not the pressure of my fixed remittance
African extensions
With no visions
With my heart pumping more blood than it receives
Draw your own conclusions.
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014
10 replies on “AFRICAN PRESSURE”
Another well-written, thought-provoking poem.
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Thank you as always Miss Kwong.
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very strong…..straight from the heart and shows strength where those that run things without any insightful vision. I identify with the sadness. pressure certainly needs a deliverer. words capture them best.
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Words really capture them best. Thank you for taking the time to comment.
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I see that we all share the same womb, and if the love, honor, and duty of family were bestowed upon all of our brothers, sisters, fathers, and mothers, the world would shine that much brighter. The bureaucracies that we use to control each other are false promises, it is love, shared among us all, which brings peace. Wonderfully written, thank you for this.
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And thank you for reading.
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Hello my friend,
What a very powerful post you wrote. Thank you for visiting my site. I hope you found something meaningful to read. I’m following you and hope you will visit my site again. Have a great day. 🙂
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I certainly will. Thank you very much for your visit too. xoxo.
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Beautiful and sad.
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Thank you for the compliment. It gets sad sometimes. Thank you for taking the time to comment.
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