Hug layered onions
Hold fumes of tear gas, waiting
For knives of awe hurts
II
They are on their marks
Gunning for eyes which lead knives
To their quiet temples
III
Onions with cool souls
In detecting the rots, stay
Knowing no betrayals
IV
Who calls them mean things?
In fighting fair, weapons are
Allowed on battle grounds
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015
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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