Like an ‘akuaba’ feeling static in beauty

Hoping from stage to stage feeling supreme

Testing all the best there is in skin creme

She used her nectar to taunt and haunt

Now Rakia sits in thoughts when ageing scent becomes palpable

She now sees what she was

Plantain which greened and is now riping

Ringing bells of rotting

Knowing not if she will be pounded and fried for “akraklo” 

By the heated earth

Or be used as feed by birds still on the tree of life

She yearns to undo all hurts and frets

And wished she had chosen one right than all the wrongs in sweets

Now on the stone of forty and one

Regret tickles her mind

As fear mask her face

Why God refused to give her the needed knock

To jolt her into wisdom

She knows not

Now her mind looks

Wanting to take all that is near

In her quest to let her womb cook for the world

Refusing to search for the right in all

It dawns on her that youth is deception

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015


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