I’m a fading tear falling into Ankobra
My still grieve is mightier than the wavering Pra
I’m nothing but a stooge on this stage
Who am I to blame living in this cage?
I stood with now great men but I lie with pain
Pain I feel like at my back whips a cane
As I summon the past to my mind’s court
My tears blankly wash the sweat of my thought
And deny the past trial unknowingly
Upon my youth past placed pleasures cunningly
That, things I ought to do I did not
And now paints me among shapes a common dot
Was it a youth thing, fantasy? Tell me
Then the world shall weep if every youth turns me.
(2011)
Note: Ankobra and Pra are among the major rivers in Ghana.
A grownup when shares his experience of youth, sometimes it is inspiration sometimes a lesson, in any case youth read listen him carefully. A good poem indeed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
How old are you poet, if you are old I will say well done and never regret it all experience, but it will amaze me if you are a young man in your youthful stage. How you've captured the past and the future even though you've not been there yet..........