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Akyere Graham Poem
It's almost like clockwork,almost second nature
It's alive to me
Yet there's no name for It.
It's like the air I breathe-
It is the air I breathe.
Its the pleasure of pain,
The joy in sorrow
Call it what you may.
It might be love
I like to think otherwise
I think it's the thoughts of those around me
In awesome motley of colours-
It defines everything I see.
It's funny...
I'm beginning to think
It might be...me
Copyright © Akyere Graham | Year Posted 2011
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Details |
Akyere Graham Poem
I felt the pounding of the yam
Deep,deep down in my bones.
I know the pistil is doing me harm
When my body creaks in hushed tones.
I've seen the fire start
Watched the embers glowing
I taste the burn in my heart
As my pain continues growing
I hear the pepper grinding
And it turns my mind to mush
I see the red so blinding
Staining my soul in a rush
I cry when the onions are sliced
And when the rice husks are blown
I shouldn't have been enticed
But I was-and now I'm alone
I brought the fire,I gave the wood
I took their life and now, nothing stood
I made the knife that stabs me so
I caused the pain and it promises not to go
It was me the Earth
I am my own death
Copyright © Akyere Graham | Year Posted 2011
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