Awoken By Poems

Awoken By Poems

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04/10/2024

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17/05/2024

Most times God presents us sorrow with a touch of joy so our sorrow do not consume us.

It is oft up to us to find and appreciate that joy in our sorrows and engineer it to console ourselves.
—Fampah Coyish

06/03/2024

Has the aroma of the unfinished bread
Put you to sleep?
Has the firewood burn out into ashes?
What about the charcoal?
I wonder if you could ever bake your own bread
And share equally among your offspring.
Wake up, Mama ,and look at me hungry in rags.
Have the mercy and utilize
What my bastard dad left me.

Don’t be fooled by friends
For they might not be as fortunate as you
So would want you to be in same level as them.
The oven has gone cold—
Yet we need to bake.

Why can’t you make up your mind
And change the faulty ovens?
But would always want to give it
Another try while you know in your hearts,
The ovens cannot bake the bread of development;
Of which your children are waiting
To feast upon with a hungry relish.

Who is brain washing you, Mama,
That the oven is doing well?
Have you forgotten your words that;
If a mother knows the use of her breast milk
Her children may never suffer?

I weep for you, Mama
Because being so rich, yet you lack
The eyes to look around and see.
Always that naive slut
Hovering about potbellied men
With briefcases making news in town
Yet we still have less to depend on
Because you strike poor bargains
Before every s**g.
You give in too much
And always left with little to care for.

I cry for you, instead of myself.
I pity you mother
Cause I’m been scorn by strangers
For your acts—they entirely mistake me for an animal!
Even though Odomankoma has built me to last.
They call me names
But yes! I bear with those fools somewhat!
Because my mother upon all the oil she has
And all the leftover minerals
My bastard father left us
Has no clue of how to bake her own bread with.
But I will keep on crying, changing pitch
Till you hear me out and act.
For it is only when the mouth has got enough to chew
That some spreads into the beard.
—Fampah Coyish
/I FEEL FOR YOU MAMA
© Fampah Coyish-Awoken By Poems 2014

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