Sunday, June 28, 2009

THE STORM

Thick dark clouds fly across the skies
Great flashes of lightening tears the skies
And under the bridge, the restless cricket sings

The cool but mighty wind scatters the nests
Birds gathering straw journey back home
For the morning is now night
And the beautiful sunrays will no more be shown

Even the greatest of trees bend over and break
His storm bent Nkrumah over
But his own storm killed him
Oh Kotoka! What a storm you started
But you were swept away by its tides

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