Harm’s arms have many needles
Their build can be many fiddles
…and odd riddles
So let’s find the middles

One can fiddle troubles to build harm
Leave wounds to fester without balm
Act aggressive and dishonorable without calm
Hurt many a heart without giving a damn
…ending up beaten and thrown in harm’s arms
…built by own hands without qualms
So who cares for this pity?
Certainly those who place survival over conscience
And regard good as weakness
That state in itself is a pity

One can land into the riddles of problems
Finding themselves with badges of unfathomable emblems
Singing songs of unfairness as their anthems
Always thinking to solve their riddles to defray their problems
But end up on brakeless seats of harm’s tandems
…descending a mountainous realm
So who cares to help them?
Certainly not the makers of the riddles
And not the protectors of the makers
Little fishes in big carnivorous seas swim less
…to live more

Whenever harm’s arms arrest you as guest
Resist to your utmost best
So you can close mouths which will be in jest
As for the for harm weavers
…stop fiddling
Because whatever you weave
Will eventually clothe you
If the material is yours
…and none finds it fitting
You sure will weave to your size
And end up wearing your weave
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © December 28, 2020

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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