The claws of the crab
Knows not the golden soil
Once it harbours the water it needs
The crows of the cock
Escapes not the eager farmer
Who has a goal in a time frame
Our measured life span
Stops not at our pauses
No matter our rights to them
Many came
Saw, tried conquering
But ended up in the net of the fisher taker
Who made ordinary meals
Out of extra ordinary livers
My roots and all other roots know this trend
Let’s band and bundle our space
Making sure to live like the determined tortoise
Who wins the race in the land of rabbits.
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © 2014
Mum Cee 