Cadbury had deserted,
divorced Tamale
And in its stead is the red,
hot sands:
The frowning terracotta.
A wicked bride that borne dirt, childless
But Tamale is a strange
person.
A husband that cares not
to wipe the dusty face of
the weary woman.
If he reneged on his vows,
let him pay the restitution
Yet, in all this, Tamale's
unborn seeds are bright,
brimming with love for self
and others. The hope to
become better fathers.
These lads are in contest
for the Queen's tongue.
The ultimate prize: A mere
smile for saying words
of the Oppressor
But here, the bicycle owns
the streets and man must
bow to her majesty
28 February, 2008. UDS, Tamale
If and when we would decide to read poetry or a piece of discerning article a day, our world is, then headed for a change. No magic potion whatsoever: if there were, politicians would have used it a long time ago. Our mind is all that we have; the only exception to tricks of all corners and angles. Enjoy the luxury and peace of poetry...
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