A Voice From Cedi House

(By Gyan Enock)

In the heart of a wicked blaze

A soul to save was my craze

For two less than a score

Till my own life was harvested

A womb to bear, a family to care

Surely the hunter is merciless

Even towards the sick animal

An impoverished venture, a cold death

Alas! Poor woman,

Life tore with a rope

The latter can be mended

But who can mend life? Who?

Like a snoring tide

My wailing soul has banished silence

In this land of no come back

An impoverished venture, a cold death

On the continent of “Do little”,

They carry us shoulder high

We are the local champions,

We win the laurels of mediocrity

But it is only the ears

Close to the river

That discovers that the crab snores

An impoverished venture, a cold death

Indeed, I prophesied the pageantry of my burial

Fresh cedi notes migrating from their snoring yards

And kissing virgin palms

Hallelujahs for a lifeless body

The paradox of honoring the dead

With billions which could have sacked the demise

Is the stomach superior to life?

An impoverished venture, a cold death

The writer; a student at the Ghana Institute of Journalism, is the leader of Orange Education Ghana and a member of the African Leaders Project of the African leadership academy, based in Johannesburg; South Africa.

Email: gyanenock@yahoo.co.uk