When ashes travel down south
And charcoals get missing
All we can hear are stored words of the mouth
As breaths go missing
Like grasses stepped on by elephants
Time steps on us with its weight
And we fade like fake paints
On the wall of the earth
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia
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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