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The Panic Of Dying Young

Growing amidst the odds of society
And craving to be the best in all possibility
Yet death scares me with its snare
Haunting from all direction
How do i escape such a scarecrow before i reach my destination?

Today i blossom like a flower
With enough to do with my power
Yet i dream of my life cut like ECG light
Oh, dear father, guide me put up a befitting fight
And grant thy servant full years of happiness.. .

Death, stop scaring me and be not be proud
For i shall live to see old age come around!

by Asempa Abankwa Okyere

 Posted by: Asempa Abankwa Okyere

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quot-img-1The first point of voluntary slavery is to decide to live according to the dictates of critics.

By: A. M. Marzuq Azindoo quot-img-1