Pranks played on death dens
Break bins and stir shocks
Tipping tides and war waves
In a cluster of fume and doom
You call
I stall
You call
I get the ball
You call
She gets the doll
These plays are fun plays
Not the crucifier of live charcoal
In some phantom rain
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. :)
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Mum Cee
2 replies on “LIVE FIRE IN A PHANTOM RAIN”
I believe you want the child to able to play and not be consume by life these are are again the sad truths we are living in I wish there was a direct answer to end this evil, but man has begun to take this breathe from our children. My heart is not still to know these truths. Many blessings Cecilia
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That is another way of explaining it. Actually, one Nigerian star was rumoured dead. I thought it wasn’t funny, so I it inspired this poem.
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