I am a fruitful tree
In my season
I fruit in magnanimity
Knowing no difference
Between beaks,  hands and rot
I feed them all

But years have painfully schooled
Codifying I have been clearly fooled
Even by those I thought I’ve cooled
As my fruitful season has hosts
Hosts greater than any audience
From many colourful skies
Yet in my quest for sunshine
Rain and air
No shadow is seen but mine
As pride holds a cane against my whine
Making it clear
I stand alone

I stand alone
So alone in need
I, who is wealthy in seasons
And give feasts fit for royals
Without discrimination
I stand alone
I who embrace rumbling stomachs
And quench the thunders of every parched throat
Sheltering the homeless
When need be
I stand alone
Even when my leaves leave me naked
To face the whips of my mates
Like a criminal of treason
I stand alone
Alone and shunned
Even flies joining the demonstration
I stand alone
Unfeeling cutlasses butchering my bark
For healing
As some nails pin me into advertisements
There really are bells in abundance
And scary alarms in need
Lord of host!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 31st July 2016

By amoafowaa

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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