Do I need the stool
Of the queen of England?
The seat of Liberia’s power buttocks?
The stance of South Korea’s head?
The heart of Yaa Asantewaa?
To have gazing eyes mellow to look?
Flaunting egos listen to bow?
Strong shoulders stand down from arrogant ladders?
Peppery mouths calmed by salt?
Tight trousers loosening to free?
And cruel hearts softening to accommodate?
We climb ladders
As spiders do their webs
As kings do their crowns
But refuse to let go holds of slavery
Holds of abuse
Holds of superiority
And cling like reins of mad horses
Neglecting great voices
Making queer choices
Open your eyes
And as individuals
Or perish in fair-malnourishments
Deserve piercings by fence wires
And a pushover
The hard ground, their cruel teacher
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016