When orphans are slapped

In the confines of protection

By “saints without, monsters within”,

Whose eyes can penetrate for knowledge?


When little orphans

Who know no difference between the words

Pray and play are made to fast 

For two weeks, which blessed Satan can go to their rescue?


All they feel is hunger

Hunger which makes their hatred stronger

Stronger to make them stranger

Stranger to show their anger


Oh who can help the girly orphans

Whose temples are made markets

For the selling of men so strange

And swept with concoction and tools

After they leave their dirt in them

To generate money for their wicked gods?


And why must those with love

Accept tags as orphans

When their loving parents

Turn their backs thinking they are left in safety

To profit those with greed?


Oh why has safety’s chamber,

Been occupied by greed in slumber?

Oh why must a grieving heart

See the pots of loneliness

Oh why must the restless feel

Thorns in the cool physically cool blanket?

Shame unto you monsters

Suited in saintly wool

Thy judgement tools are cooking

To feed they wicked souls soon!

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015

(This was inspired by Anas Aremeyaw Anas’s Careless which is an undercover investigation in a children’s home which maltreat the orphans)

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. :)

8 replies on “ABUSED BY SAINTS”

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