So life is life
And life needs feeds
Life is life
And life sheds blood
Life is life
And life needs moves
I will use my machine at the palm of my tree
To get what I need
Because it is no tofee to deplete

It’s true, I meet them all;
The ritualists who need to cook
Their flour with my eggs
In order to feed
And oh! I meet them too
The stingy brutes
Who stir and drink soups
From my beautiful heated pot
Without replacing its ingredients
And I meet them too;
The wierd preachers who eat the rotten foods they preach against
I hate the part
Where pleasure involves brutality
And brutes unleash their claws to see me bleed
But it pays
It is risky but what isn’t?

I am a boat
With ready paddles
On a sea calling for muscles
I am a cave with blessed fingers
In a populated realm
Calling the tired
All ye who are burdened
And heavy laddened
And I shall give you rest
Remember,  you must be man enough to man up
In judgement’s box
No name calling except for your devilish pleasure
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015

3 thoughts on “WHAT?

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