In  the arms of armoured earth

Protective of us

Fight with race

Fight with gender

Fight with geography

Fight with ethnicity

And fight for what we can’t forever own


When we

Crossing over into soil

Take nothing but our beings

Our skin being butchered by moth

Our bones being powdered by age and time

Our teeth, the only stones, scattering into places

While the streams of our blood lose the battle with drought


Funny huh?

We are like passing air

But we behave like immortals

Spending our precious time on senselessness

Fighting and not living for our respective purposes

Only to hear the sound of our last bell when we lose our speech

Leaving with regrets none can see or hear or even help us convey to our beloveds

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014

By amoafowaa

Just a simple Ghanaian trying to find the best in our society. I may be fun, I may be interesting, I may be funny, I may even be foolish or intelligent, but it is all based on the mood in which you find yourself. I believe our minds make us who we are. Know that, pain, no matter its 'unbearability', is transient. Unburden or delight yourself for a while in my writings please. And all corrections, advice and opinions are welcome. Know that you are the king, queen or royal on this blog. :)

2 replies on “MERE MORTALS”

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