Edward Kofi Louis (13th October 1961 / Accra, GHANA)
Many waters and many tears,
Of many hopes and dreams;
A prophet is not loved by his own people.
Many tears and many fears,
Of many hopes lost in the drain like rain;
But i am still in the rain with my brain.
The train waits for me and,
The moon is sleeping in my arms;
But the door of hell also stands beside me.
In my flesh and with my spirit,
In my min d of many hopes and with the flames of fire;
I have no honey or money to buy a pony or a monkey,
And my backyard is burning.
The sun is shining in its strength like the smoke of insence,
Sweet like honey but without money on this issue;
And like a great voice behind to seek for the beginning and the end.
A golden seal and a golden lamp,
With a great force ahead of me when i have no money;
But i am clothed with a garment of hope to lead me on to find you.
You are like the raging waves of the sea;
But i am now learning the muse of time to get to you.
The tide of my hope is to succeeed and,
To the 7th congregation;
But o know the truth about life matters than war.
To those things that i have written,
An open door is needed on this love;
But the words of my patience will lead me to meet oh money.
Of the things that i have experienced,
Neither cold nor hot to swing my muse towards money;
And like a lukewarm attitude,
It is either cold nor hot when the issue of money is involved.
Seven stars in my right arm,
Like every sailor's boat with money;
But i have to write a new song before the thrown of my lover.
I am standing on the sea of glass with care;
But seven out of a house is what i need on this money.
Poverty and tribulation,
Many had fallen for the lack of money;
But i will take this rod of iron to lead my way through.
Comments about this poem (Money by Edward Kofi Louis )
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