Each Day Has Its Own Troubles Poem by Edward Kofi Louis

The softness of your throats,
The weakness of your bodies,
With the ways of life difficult as it may be;
But, everybody wants to hear you people speaking,
Like giving food for the fowls of the air to eat.

A camel through the eye of a needle!
With the muse of a household to a call;
As you were seen standing idle at the market place,
At the eleventh hour when you were needed most by your people.

A rich man of the world!
A poor man is closer to you;
Seeking for help,
But, each day has its own troubles.

To those on the right hand and,
To those on the left hand!
To pay the tax;
But, the lamp of the body are the eyes.

The softness of your throats!
Sitting by the wayside of hope;
And to view the city which is set on the hills,
Like food given to the fowls of the air to eat.

Lip, drip!
To save someone in the name of love;
With the ways of life very diffifcul as it may be,
Bar, tar, star, war! !
But, that is not why you are still sitting and watching.