In this depressing robe
Which whispers the fears that sadness stole
I open the gate of sanity
To tell you to mark the days
II
Mark the days as teachers mark their registers
Until this robe comes off by itself
As the carriage of happiness lands on your shore
And the crown of laughter graces your lips
III
Mark the days you feel like an ant
About to be crushed by soldering feet
Who would neither see your corpse nor hear a cry
Until you are lost in their stepping
IV
Mark these days
When you have neither friend nor foe
And the mouth of these four walls open not to you
Their eyes creepily hidden in their shield
V
Mark these days when the end taunts your jump
As you cry for murder
Better still the Creator’s mercy
With not so much as a drop of sympathy
VI
Mark these days
When confidence sits on an eagle tree
So far away from you
It is a feeling of blessing to magnify happiness, when it rains
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016
(Photo Credit: Google pics)
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