Sore had all the attention
…on the leg of a big man
It got the hot water and the Manbee
And tasted plaster
…as flies hovered for little bites
…even as claps scared and trapped them into death
Every morning saw it attended to
Every evening saw it pampered
Until it turned into a scar

The scar was neglected
And so it started feeling unloved
…and uncared for
All flies stopped hovering
Till it bothered scar to bits

One day
Fingernails scratched a bit of scar
And one fly followed the tiny blood clot
…to woo the small sore
Scar with its little sore
…thought it had come back in season
So started bluffing and covering itself
…always loving the cover of cloth
…thinking the flies will multiply
…for it to get more attention
But it was never to be

So the little sore died without attention
And scar, through the pain of old age
…accepted it was no longer in vogue
…neither could it go back to its fresh skin state
It sadly relegated itself to the background for the hot shots
And got lost in wrinkles
…until death sprinkled its tinkles on the body
…which ferried it into oblivion
That ended the tale of the conceited sore
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © February 19, 2021

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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