Night Of Broken Glasses Poem by Benjamin Debrah

That night was cold
It was cold for the young, the old and the bold
That same night freedom was sold
Its mysteries are yet to be told

Fists hammered on doors
Shops and houses were open
Bodies sprawled on the floor
Hearts and windows were broken

There was mass commotion
Hatred was the only emotion
Christians could not do their devotions
Blood became body lotion

Family could not relate
Even friends were unkind
Democracy could not debate
Love was hard to find

Screams thundered here and there
Nobody seemed to care
Science did not dare
Even the camera could not bear

The mosque was out of sight
The streetlight was not even bright
Nothing seemed right
Many called it, 'the cold night'