I cry for you
You whose time was set before birth
Shaped by fixed days
Rounded by a set of months

As your seconds tick into your minutes
I know your heart sinks
As you fall into the arms of history
But do take these
These flawed claws
Which have arrested our fingernails
And are causing such sores to our souls

Burn with the clothes of troubles
And help us walk into the clothes made
By your new born

Maybe those clothes may have thrills
Which will fill our quill
To rewrite our scripts
Or make us porcupines to battle
To keep well our field

Vanish with your garnish of tarnishing
Die with your sighs and cries
Round up your lions and lionesses
Shredding pride and egos of the righteous
And burn together

Clothes of shame
Headgears of corruption
Un-needed gloves of destruction
Crippling boots of greed
Burn with all to have us freed

We did all to walk you safely to your grave
We have noted every second you did breathe
So burn with all that is unfair
And shine us clean to rise above our clouds
As suns do through the fall of dawn
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) Dec. 31, 2016

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