IN THE HALL CALLED MALL

I heard the deafening silence

Of the shocked New Year,

In the belly of a hall called mall

Which sits on the streets of Accra,

Right before its first day’s neck

Touched the knife of the dreary executioner

II

A deafening silence which spoke volumes

Into ears which deflected the messages

And caused my mouth to open like a manhole

Dugged by the strong muscles of a mighty volcano

Causing questions erections which caught my affection

Why are unyoked humans artificially yoking themselves

In a web of chaos which smiles at the mischief

Being given on a platter of gold?

III

Why are hands of devils

Stroking lonely hearts as stooges for crumbs

Which numb egos only to pile hurts for the knowing future

Turning innocent days evil for the paranoia of their hosts?

Why are so many beautiful temples unveiled

Going around rather than waiting for their congregation

To bath, dress cleanly and leave shoes and sandals

On their frontal doors before entering?

IV

Even the sharp sword of time

Did not cause the New Day to shout so loud

Like the desperation which lived on the bodies of murderous celebrants

Even the autumn years of the day

Could hardly fathom the quanta of energy which cried out

In languages unspoken

The human source with ingredients of fun lovers

Robbers, scammers, great talents,

Expensive goods and foods, family, friends, lonely hearts

And deep-holed-paraders had to be left untouched

By this nosey thoughts which sat on the wings of its uncle

To listen to what others refuse to hear

Before the blood of the New Day spilled in 2016

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016

(Inspiration by human watching with my uncle Ebenezer Banafoe at the Accra Mall on January 1, 2016. Photo credit by pulse.com.gh )

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