Buses of sainthood

Toot their horns

Waiting impatiently for the visiting Holy Month

Horrid hearts which were shelved

Stretch and open eyes

Waiting for the right time to descend and blend

By tomorrow, a frown will cause a dirty slap

All goats must heed their owners’ calls

Or risk ending up in strange pots

Hot mouths must mark their surroundings

Or risk setting fires In many a humble huts

The Holy Month is a pious soldier

Who subdues all Like an all seeing law

So its departure breaks the cages

Of chained burdened sins which hid

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015

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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