Their Presence Poem by Ernest Obeng

The mornings scare
Like the ghost
And the goodnights
Welcomed like a prince

The nights draw curtains
On my sorrow
And the mornings open them
Like an opera show

I weep every morning
Seeing the skies so bright
They coming to take away my light
And yet having no strength to fight

I wish to pass through
The transition stage of death
And tell my sun I missed its warmth
The warmth of comfort and joy

I abhor their presence
And enjoy their absence
I pray they are always out of sight
But never wish their death