A PRAYER

In this cold
Do me hold
Even when sold
Make me bold
You who did me mould

II
We are in grasses filled with rhyming snakes
We are cut weeds being chased by sharp rakes
We are vehicles with destructive brakes

We are bread death busily bakes
Why won’t everything cause fear shakes?

III
Build a hell around my well
And not a heaven to sell my shell
Build a strength to surround my fall
And not a weakness to sound shame’s call
Build determination around my vulnerabilities
And not pessimism to water my disabilities
You know the formula for my clay
So hold me till I decay
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © August 24, 2018

6 thoughts on “A PRAYER

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