WHAT AM I?

I sit in comfort on my bed
With head carrying fires of hell
What could I possibly be to you?
A fling in a sling on a swing?

II
I think with my heart
Which beats like bass in a loose speaker
I hurt like a bird with broken wings
I can fly to no tree
I fear to walk,
Lest a hungry hunter of loneliness swallows
All this while a voice keeps asking within
What am I to you?
A fling on a sling in a swing?

III
Fragile hearts need no hard enclaves
Fragile souls, need no shadows
Which connive with darkness of commitment
To leave them stranded
When monsters of uncertainties chase
I am a lost child in a lonely old body
My tantrums being my walls
Walls you have broken
But what am I to you?
A fling in a sling on a swing?

IV
Love me some
Or leave me crudely
Living in the middle is living like a goat
Strapped to a tree on a great occasion
Whatever my fate, sinks my soul in seconds
What at all am I to you?
A fling in a sling on a swing?
Poor little me!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) Nov. 29, 2016

Leave a Reply

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

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com 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 )

Google+ photo

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

Connecting to %s