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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required My family crowds our frail dreams of success, still, we fail in our struggle for butter, just bread! Seems the rich view the world with their heads in the clouds, they can’t hear, they can’t touch, those whose roof is their sky! Do they feast on the hungry, quaff tears the weak cry? My country, my family, let me address: Does our country create work or make the weak dread to pay taxes, should so rich owe less than land’s crowds? Do the rich breed just laws or just laws breed rich rich, highs’ rules raise the lows’ level, plants corpse in a ditch? My village, my friend! Might I train, be a nurse? Who should seek my success more than someone I’d serve? Is it God that fails us or weak hearts that fail God? Fine-tune music of dreams or judge dreams lost ‘our sin?’ ‘Lost Dreams’ show us new doors? What, who helps more frail win? Does fasting win favor or serve as a curse we bring down on our heads? May our Lord help us swerve toward more soul serving paths the best angels have trod! Grant us ‘courage to work’ for a future that’s bright And, if ‘Just,’ help discouraged more move toward ‘Your Light!’ Brian Johnston and Abigail (Sister of Abekah Emmanual) 25th of September in 2020 Poet’s Notes: My poem closely follows the spirit of the very first poem Abigail has shared with me, and perhaps ever written. Abigail, who resides in Ghana with her two brothers, Abekah and Godfred, and her mother, Comfort, have become a part of my extended family after her brother Abekah (also an aspiring poet), and I met on Poemhunter.com. English, of course, is not Abigail’s native language, but I’m impressed by what she had to say and I hope to hear her voice again. I consider her to be the coauthor, the heart of the poem you see here!
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