There are sounds which are better not made
There are scars better left under skirts of decorum
Just a stick prick, and an infection occurs
Old songs of sadness are best left unsung

Care is knowing the hurt path
And leaving it to grow weeds of forgetfulness
Love is seeing the painful clothing
And covering it with wool of laughter
Tenderness is wiping off pity makeups
Upon seeing a troubled soul
There sure is no grace in acting reminder
Of a pain struggling to be forgotten
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Jan. 9, 2019

By amoafowaa

Just a simple Ghanaian trying to find the best in our society. I may be fun, I may be interesting, I may be funny, I may even be foolish or intelligent, but it is all based on the mood in which you find yourself. I believe our minds make us who we are. Know that, pain, no matter its 'unbearability', is transient. Unburden or delight yourself for a while in my writings please. And all corrections, advice and opinions are welcome. Know that you are the king, queen or royal on this blog. :)

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