Moment Of Madness Poem by Oduro Bright Amoh

The sun secures her stellar smile.
The misty moon may mend a memory missed.
I wield fire enough to smoke the ocean for a while,
Yet it is only this same rag I kissed.
What is that to me?

Small stars may swallow some stars
Clouds may call coward crows to commit.
My voice will burn fresh wounds into scars,
Yet what I eat, I can hardly vomit.
What is that to me?

Leave the leaves to live their lives
Free flies for fun should fly fairly in the fields
I have enough virility to fructify many wives
Yet my bosom from hunger yields.
What is that to me?
What is that to me?