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Sunday, 18 January 2015

A Ghanaian Caskets

It is hard to clean a mess 
This wide spread 
With splash this wide a range 

The task of knees to the floor 
With every tiny fine corner to clean 
Like dust spread on dessert roads 

A mess this great to clean 
The air feels stuffy filled with remnants 
Of what had just been executed by the beast 

Torn to shreds like pieces of meat 
Lying around in an open field 
Of wild grass with blood stains 

Bury me in my sleep
In a casket made in Ghana 
In reflection of my life 

Just make sure it is with dreams 
And not nightmare 
I lie in this rest sleep with 

Do not put me in a cage 
With my heart still haunted 
As torture to hold 

I will have to fight myself to death 
And then repeat in essence 
The whole scene over again 

Over and over and over again 
Like a ghost in a haunted house 
Claiming property rights 

Over and over and over again  
Bury me in a casket made in Ghana 
In reflection of my life 

So I can continue 
Being myself 
Long after I am gone, in skeleton state

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