Fathers are not the feathers so fluffy
…with sperm supermakets
Forcing their wares in buildings
…without paying their rent

Fathers are not mouths
…with boastful words
…which wake from useless tongue beds
…to order hands to tap their chests
…to brag and drag fame of a built human
…to their cruel stages

Fathers are farmers who plant,
…clear challenging weeds,
…fight off pests,
And harvest contentment
…when their farms flourish

So Kakaaku,
…go away with your mmusuo
…of calling yourself paapa
…when many unformed bodies curse you
…from gutters with murdering stench
And many destroyed wombs kill you in their deserts
…of barreness

Kwame Aponkye
…please shut up
…so you don’t wake the wrath of women
…whose sweat fill seas of suffering
…in tending to your abandoned seeds

Yao Dzakpasu
…don’t even show your face on this day
…lest, your denial breaks from the anger tree
…to flog you like its bothersome pest

This day is not for your likes
It is for the real workers on the field
And for the great hearts
…who tend to some of your mess
…while you annoyingly dress
…like over bloated peacocks
Why some of you own sacks filled with lives,
…only Otwereduampong will know
In your next lives
…you must be born as weeds
…with no chance of choosing shamelessness
…in your built houses of cruelty
You rotten nuts destroying soups of fatherhood!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © June 16, 2019

2 thoughts on “HEARTS AND FATHERS

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