Mould Of Our Lives Poem by Geosi Gyasi

One hot worrying weather
Whilst the sun burns our skin
To baked charcoal fragments
We have no place to run for shade.

Our small dwelling structures
Their slated roofing sheets
Scores of wounding burns
Baked in heated clay-oven
Are the mould of our lives.

Rays of the scorching sun
Terribly flashes uncalled for
Seated spots on pores of skin
Splash of arrays of tormenting heat
Our clay structures our only saviour
Even then, we’re not saved.

Our children show the way
Play the game of returning rays
Engage mirrors by the gates
The course of the sun: reflected.
These and others - we survive.