When winds of the past blow
…into the tsunamis of the future
As the airs of the present watch
Let deeds clap for seeds unplanted
…seeds which grew out of the dust of our loss

When ghosts of our past
…look for the fetuses of our future
As we sit and play
Let lives clap for death
…in a comedy worthy of the tragedy
To entertain the myths we serve to swerve
…swerve our responsibilities

For we know the strides we try to hide
We know the hurts we hoist to harm
We know the pain we use as bane
But we still kill the cows which host our milk
And kill the trees which host our silk

So when our morns sit
…to watch dead suns call on dawns
May we laugh from right body parts
So the sounds will be the ones we can love
Not ones we must run from
Due to the stinky mess
…and the shameful smell
…from our actions and inactions
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © August 25, 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. :)


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s