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Photo Credit: Kwasi Osei-Danso Ofori-Atta

We are spared the trouble of looking behind our back
when our steps are no more counted amongst the living
Like dreams that fade within closed eye lids
We fall like the mighty warriors who shared their
Blood for all the beings that was in their loins

Shamelessly we tiptoe into the fires of fury
That wrote names of traitors in it’s fierce glow
Yes we have a hand in our own destiny
We are gods without titles
Tell me your name if you have one

And like riddles we are unwell in our patterns
We smoke peace pipes that was made for the
Man whose hands has seen no dirt
Whose lips has kissed truth

What is our story like, when we dance like the
Leaf on its way to hard ground
Not giving thoughts to the proud feet in its way

What is the words in our mouth like
When we spit on the conscious one
But physically we are abused by the world
Which feet we kiss till Sunset


What are we looking at when we stand still
With undeciphered thoughts
And the clocks keep tick tocking into our ears
Who hurt us when we became humans?
Who nailed us to a cross we didn’t order for?

Gifty Gifty

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