WHEN THE LAW CHASES

The boldness of darkness in deceptive acquisition
Is a mystic and hypocritical existence
Which abhors the steps of light
Even in far distances
It’s a little wonder legs turn three
Moving without support for the third
Chests grow mounds
Hoping with no straps for decorum
When the law chases

II
Wigs are rigs in these digs
For they easily come off
Leaving mess on exhibition
And baldness to the knocks of cold
And the burning heat of the sun
It’s a little wonder stooging knees
Turn laughing teeth
When traps of the law fetches stool games
Ah! Norms Are Sticks
When the law chases!

III
You know there’d be fans
There’d be tongues calling for bans
They’d be minds mum with fear
And hearts delighted to share
Still there’d be fence sitters
Few sympathisers
Oh let’s see the bright side
No fecal matter sits in caught bellies
When the law chases

IV
Shame for honour
Rags for respect
Hate for love
Kin for stranger
Friends turn enemies
Crushes start crashing
When the law chases

V
Ghosts of the past can turn clothes into ropes
Shadows into canes
An extended hand into a bat
A tree into a cudgel
Little sounds into guns
Reaching for guilty hearts
When the law chases
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © 23/05/2018