I

Never have I seen intelligence metamorphosing into dumbness
…at a prime
So have I never seen diligence dressing down
…in growth time
I stand in this mirror
To narrow down this horror
Of me wearing a tag of dumbness
…in my prime

II
Could it be?
Could it be I’ve run out of knowledge
…drained by muses into a sewage
And standing as a sorry storage
…of an emptiness waiting at a disadvantage?

III
Could it be?
Could it be I’m a living dead
Waiting to be happily fed
To the earth by a system I’ve long built on a shed
Doing what many climbed could never have read
So I’m living like sewage?

IV
I’m here
Seeing sadness turn to fear
Trying Eros to Thanatos’ deaf ear
In these four walls that hosted my shame

V
I’m here
A something to a nothing with a soiled smile
A loving to a hating with a sad soul
…hanged onto a disappointing pole

VI
I’m here
Usurped on grass
Turned into an unwanted interest so crass
That my eyes fight my mind to see
Wanting the me now to never be
So I ask I who I am
In a defying hum

VII
My tongue tied at a question
My mind vanished at an interrogation
My heart sank at a direction
For I knew this mind would remember not in function
So I ask I if I can remember I’s name

VII
Have I traded?
Have I traded talent with articulation?
Have I traded?
Have I traded explanation with being explained?
Have I turned?
Have I turned a model who can’t sew?
I feel like a bead without a hole
Nothing can ever make me feel whole
…for a while
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © August 28, 2024