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I have a complain,
Yet not the chance to explain,
And there is no vacuum to contain,
Thus I still bear the pain.

It is as bitter as crocodile's bile,
And lengthy as life's mile,
But so easy to compile,
On my file,

That I have been the greenest plant stead,
Out of six on my mother's land stead,
So they say I am a problem instead,
And it seems I am pampered; but hated.

When my leaves fall by nature,
Some take secret pleasure,
But I maintain my stature,
And thus, I will still be a treasure.

The story is in this turn,
Since it is not yet my turn,
But guilt will pay them in return,

by prince kwesi otabil

 Posted by: cephas pobi

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