my eyes puke in tears,

as I watch my sanctity cry in the flames of confusion

my eyes puke in tears,

they can't cough out the smoke,

but lungs are killed by the smoke,

choked by the smoke

Velocity comes to a halt

time folds itself like a mat,

the smoke, the frying of my soul,

in self-detonation's oil,

I'm buried in the frying pan of destruction

There is no stopping the overspeeding

steerless train heading for the rocks,

the sky crumbles,

I look into the mirror,

but there is no reflection,

not even the water can reveal my image

My heart beats like disaster,

my whole being has just being short-circuited

with too many voices,

the fuse melts,

again too many voices,

the filament breaks,

no light

and a fiery, gaseous monster roars,

in the chambers of my life,

the wood moans, crackles, dies,

the existence, moans, crackles, dies,

the hope, moans, crackles, dies

too late for forgiveness,

I'm already carrying a curse...

let it burn the crops

of happiness, bliss, joys,

the curse, I have thrown away the gem

in the bin of ungratefulness,

too late

the moaning, the crackling, the dying,

the moaning, the crackling, the dying,

the self hell let loose,

and soul singing dirges in the intentional fire,

hopes to live again

it was meant for good,

but it ended up in lethal confusion

the spirit must not look back,

as the being burns,

it must walk in hope to live in the light,

I have thrown it all away,

too late for forgiveness,

there is no turning back,

nothing to look back at,

nothing to look forward to,

I have drowned in disappointment,

I let this old me die,

devoid of freedom's oxygen

There is a new road before,

Choices,

to be the best of myself,

in the next life,

I hope there's light there,

Too many weeds,

the fire lashes them unto death,

too much ignorance, too much mistakes

as my father said,

"There's nothing in the past,

you don't go back there, only go forward,

the friendliness of the future."

I have lost that light,

I refuse to see,

Too late...

darkness...

                                                                  By Kakraba Afful

The paper..it's the only friend

on this earth that will always give me

the chance to start again...

and again...and again...and again...

so the pendulum retraces its home,

the time melts,

the lights are killed by ignorance,

and darkness takes over,

the darkness of the mirror

I sail my ships back to childhood,

I see the fame, the boy that

everyone called.. good.. humble...respectful

...peaceful...reserved,

the boy that was talkative,

always living with a flare of excitement,

but then a conviction proceeds

and I become a slave to everyone's words;

is it this I want or that?

the words have cracked, bruised and battered the transparence,

my mind fights the war of clarity,

and the mirror cries;

So I tun my back on the fast velocity

and try to trace my roots;

and the mirror cries;

my mind fights the war of clarity

the words have cracked, bruised and battered the transparence,

is it this I want or that?

and I become a slave to everyone's words;

but then a conviction proceeds

always living with a flare of excitement

the boy that was talkative

reserved...peaceful...respectful

...humble...good...

I see the fame, the boy that

everyone called,

I sail my ships back to childhood

the darkness of the mirror,

and the darkness takes over,

the lights are killed by ignoracne,

the time melts,

so the pendulum retraces its home

and again..and again..and again...

the chance to start again

on this earth that will always give me,

the paper...it's the only friend.

                                                            By Kakraba Afful

Right from birth, they trained him in innocence,

but an ignorance by far dethroned him from his glitter

and kept him in the manger,

thus, he was a being of negligence

Right from birth, they trained him in innocence,

the boy that everyone knew and applauded;

smiling with obedience, temperance, respect

and humility,

he gets thrown about and bullied

by the giant of indecision

boy in class three, gets all the attention,

then he immitates the swagger

and also gets attention

fifth grade bullied by two giants

sixth grade, cry baby till present

second year, junior high school seriousness

wounded by the false perception

that everybothing is easy

High school, deadly procrastination and

lethal laziness give him poor grades

De-graft Afful, he has always been average

at UVU, meets the ice princess, S.T.,

now he's here writing about his shattered self.

                                                         By Kakraba Afful

We, the Generation have immense potential & lots of talent. We are the real revolutionary in the sense that we can change existing society anytime we want & can mould it in the way we desire, whether for good or bad. This generation is the blast in itself but the question that arises are “whether we are conscious of our role in the society? Are we really taking up our responsibility? Are we not wasting our time in worthless jobs just like uselessly roaming, smoking, & gossiping on cells?

Sometimes ago a movie “Yuva” was released which gave a very meaningful message to us that we can’t expect a clean society without giving effort to clean it.

If we want something good we have to take a step forward. May be it takes one or more decades to bring everything on track but then there is a famous saying “ The gardener may not eat the fruits of his own trees but he sows seeds of the fruit for others.” If we want clean politics then saying that our national politics doesn’t deserve simple honest guys like us, its total nonsense. It is just avoiding your responsibilities. Similar examples are there in our day to day life also. Mr. Shiv khera’s best seller quotes the following golden words,

“For every injustice, think whether it is beginning of injustices & are we a part of it directly or indirectly. If yes, we are equally culprit”.

It is only this generation that has potential to direct there creative minds to frame the society. It is our responsibility to give what we had desired but failed to get because of the ignorance of last generation to clean the drain. We have to go down to it & then only it can be cleaned. The moral values from our fore fathers should be conveyed to the next generation in its best spiritual form. Last but not the least thinking on a problem is not the solution to any problem if no effort are made to solve it on our part, then it is impossible to get the best & is useless to frame others.

We can change everything just by using our head, heart, hand anh health(4H).

So, why so late? Come and Let’s start ………………