Your rusty portico is spared.
May it rest your radio
For a moment to blink.
A message from the fireflies
Give them ears.
Put it to the sun to hold on
For the night the message denies.
To the ears may it reach the door of courage.
Just discern the fact that the wind is clear.
Veto your eyes to conceive defeat
In an unrecognised way protect the national pocket.
A wake-up call it is!
My Ghanaian fellow
Stop staring at the old glass.
Our legends were lost in it.
Pieces of the trap remain with the bearers
So stop gazing at them.
The dream of reprieve is on a swing
When upon the TV you gaze
Twin glasses smile at you.
But don’t doubt your vision
The identified reality is real.
Protocols are defiled yet a case is filed.
Quest for power rules bent.
Then an earthly angel blew a trumpet
Discipline the masses.
It’s always a romance in your ear but a means to their end.
Indeed, victory has a different sentiment.
A future for a peanut?
A cedi for your thoughts?
Your generation is bought.
A crate of drought
Even the good ones will waft
What is your fight