People Of Equal Thoughts & Spirit Poem by Edmund BaffourAwuah

Caps off, heads down
This is a land solemn
Sniffing vipers, only a fair caution
This is Salem
Only fools dare tread on holy grounds
When P.O.E.T.S. are in session
Where angels are on procession
With voices in tandem
We pour some liquor into parched throats
Fathers of our fathers, a drink for you
Quench your lasting thirst
We stand here in reverence utmost
Suppressing our wobbling vim
Conscious of the price you paid
To give us these voices loud
The voice you’ve lost
Whiles you still mutter
Muttering hope to forlorn psyches
Here, we find rest
A drink for you

Our totems
Souls of our clan
Not exuberance utter
Not impudence needless
We are the generation they term young
Seeming not a semblance of hope
Still feeding from our mothers’ pots
Still spending from our fathers’ pockets
But we tell our own pride
Walk heads up
Flaunting our aura, the nebulous aura
This is the long awaited posterity
Rekindling the dying flame
Spitting fire
Rambling on with seamless dexterity

We stand on higher planes
Beating out the drums
Calling the scattered birds to gather
This is a time to brood
The hawks have been caused to scatter
We are the voice
Emancipated
Novel minds on a ground sane
Joining, winding the twine
Knitting, putting back the misplaced links
To bring together
People Of Equal Thoughts and Spirits