It is said
With no meaning absurd
The toad is the best
To tell the real feel of water
And not by a finger test.
We hear the quotation,
Your life is in your own hand
My infidel interpretation
Is, can life be fetched like sand?
Some are born of spirits
Others by woman
Many as offsprings
Only one by a virgin
I fell in the peasant's farmhouse
To a woman who never wore blouse
Had friends whose hair birthed lice
And siblings who survived on lies
Those on the other side
Thought a river was like poolside
And had TV to view "by the fireside"
To them, life began at twenty
While mine was waiting till forty.
Weeding, pruning and thinning out
Consoling myself that time won't run out
Producing the golden tree
That the lucky kid calls chocolate.
Since age three
I knew I was getting late
But whose choice is it
Being unworthy or dear
To be born with silver wear
Or be birthed a misfit
Had we, those in my shoe
We the unlucky ones
Without any choice, not once
Come across that magic wand
How much we could accrue
To influence those around
With lifted eyes
To the son of virgin Mary
Reciting the poor Man's prayer
If truly God never dies
We hope in glory
We too shall buy lorry
Be in Accra, I'm from kpong
Trust in pens and crayon
My cocoa tree won't be forever young
And the choice made for me
Isn't the last opportunity I'll see.
Great poem. I love your style
ReplyDeleteGreat poem. I love your style
ReplyDelete