His every sight triggers a magical goldsmith

Who makes a mental pickaxe and shovel

Which exhumes dead hurts

Leaving the best parts buried


How he caught a young flower

And stepped on the fresh he plucked in young

How he acted like an ostrich

And flew on two legs is still a mystery


Magical moments fell in a dark ink of pain

And soaked until the heart froze

Hurtful blessings some termed it

But none shared the palpitations of fear in her heart


The thorny crown of whipping must be placed on his head

Clothes of heated metals must fit onto his body

As knives of judgement slice his bare body teasings bit by bit

To be mulched and moulded to create the heart he destroyed


For she walks like a being

With a heart of a robot

A potential robot creator

Who needs to be appeased

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016

(Picture Credit:Β

8 thoughts on “TRIGGERS

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s