Look into those weeping eyes,

tell me that you see her comfort

stuffed into a greedy furnace

look into the sanctity of his heart,

please tell me, you see cracks

in it, faults by a cardiac earthquake

with the eruption of blood,

killing it's existence

 

See deep, hear deep,

see and hear

the cataclysmic turbulence

of her soul,

the way nasty tornadoes

of misfortune have blown away

his life,

with an airy ink of defeat,

hear the chuckling of hurricanes,

wrestling and strangling her

destiny to death

 

Pay attention to him,

a sunken city,

swallowed by a tumultous flood,

watch her,

bleeding from the sharp stab

of excrutiating experiences;

 

And let sincere tears

well down, your eyes as well,

let your heart burn in

a frying furnace of guilt

let your heart be

filled with the cracks of worry,

for seeing someone

who has been dumped

in the scrapyard of life

let your blood erupt

by the hormone of solicitude,

for someone whose beliefs

are in crutches

and whose confidence has

been crippled by the

menacing, laughing turmoil of life

 

Be concerned,

let's care for one another,

be a handkerchief to a weeping soul,

an ointment to an aching heart,

turn their tears to honey

and you shall be blessed.

                                    By Kakraba Afful

Each time I walk on the streets of life, my breathe is held, my soul can no more be free, as before, when it was young and strong, then I look at the bus stop, where you used to stand and sparkle with a smile I now apparently know, I need a rehab for heartbreak and solid sorrow I look at the bus stop, over here, then over there with wishing eyes, that wish you were here, my sight is in a basement, blinded by a darkness, since your light deserted my world I know I did some things and you can forgive, so I guess I'll drag my anvil heart behind me for the rest of my life. By Kakraba Afful

He spoke this,

but his hypocritical eyes,

spoke a foreign song

 

Her lips moved with the

smooth butter of flattery,

but her heart was like an active

volcano, awakening from its long sleep

 

He said the nicest things

with a porcelain smile

to pull it off,

but he was a talking antonym,

unlike the synonymism of sincerity

 

she's not who you think

she is...

 

he's not who you think

he is...

                                                   By Kakraba Afful

her heart was knocking at his

door for a wanting embrace,

everyday, as drops of rain

fell to the wondering ground,

her aching breathe, fathom why

he ignored her signals

 

she searched for adventure in his eyes

and longed for the heroism of his heart

to save her from the alcoholism of loneliness

 

the moon wept,

tears blue

and the sun sobbed with magma

upon his ignorant soul,

till he was burnt with regret

 

he ran cheetahly to open the door,

she was gone,

no more there

to cry for his love

he was burnt with regret.

                                                By Kakraba Afful