The airs of the piper
Have no authority
They flow at the command of the tune payer
Giving power when power is needed
Giving sadness when requested
Going at the pace of dancing feet
Who show their gladness by moving
I know all that
But the piper can turn tune payer
After working like a donkey for a while
Like leaves swaying heads
At the passing of the wind
Mouths shout their pain
Like trains needing oiling
When disasters strike
Only to laugh when suns set
It is sad when suns record such poor attitudes
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015

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