Eternal goodbyes are like pinches in the abdomen
Now I see there are lots to worry about
As Grandma Bombay lies still in the arms of the faceless
And the tears for her flows like the Kintampo Waterfalls
Many bring their wallets, empty
Hoping to refill
Even water in sachet cost more than an average salary
Even an electrician wants more than the matron
Citing faults
As eaters fuss over not getting any
When their mouths are like food stores
As the matrons cook,
Grandma’s spirit, I think, went and brought many ghosts
To come and hide behind her relatives
To ask for foods, drinks and whatever can travel into the stomach
And if one ghost is dissatisfied, chaos breeds
Only a broken pot of food puts them to rest
What is our fault?
Sending a loving person on a journey to rest
And providing all that is needed for her good rest?
True, one man’s spoilt farm, is another man’s good scrap find
The Lord must judge this
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015
Mum Cee 
6 replies on “FUNICASH”
My Dear Amoa, that is quite Emotive. I have always been a dunce with regard to poetry. Also, knowing the background would help. …’one man’s spoilt farm, is another man’s good scrap find.’ What one man thinks is a waste is found by another person as very useful and worthwhile. Very True.
All that is very true. And needs to Change. I see You are a great instrument in this change. You are a powerful writer.
I could not understand Grandma Bombay’s role in the poem.
Hearty Regards.
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It means people prey on other people’s misery
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And that is Very True.
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🙂
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Beautifully written!
By the way, you’ve been chosen as one of today’s nine blogs in That’s So Jacob’s Ninth Month Blog Challenge (http://www.thatssojacob.wordpress.com)! I challenge you to find nine blogs you find interesting and give them a comment to brighten their day…well, eight other blogs and mine 🙂 Copy this message in your comment and enjoy your new blog friends!
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🙂
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