Indie Scribe Magazine November 2014 | Page 52

I

This one way journey,

I, like the lonely bird flies

Passing through all roads

II

The hurting lovers

Like beautiful flowers wound

Me with their cruel thorns

III

Luckily, like grass

Which aims to live in the dry

I heal and move on

IV

I do swear sometimes

Never to touch a flower

Of any nature

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia