IT BEATS ME

How Hardi heard

The silvers bark

And peeped to see

The walking scents

Booting the silvers here and there,

Beats me, beats me

Neighbouring niceties nestling

Walking in heels

And rudely entering

When foods at home go on strike

Beats me, beats me

III

Booting barrels bare

Hitting heads of metals

Making scenes and letting

Stomach beings wake to glare

Beats me, beats me

But what can a torn pocket do

Without needle and thread?

Tags #AFRICAN POETS, HUNGER, POETRY.

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. :)

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