she was a good woman

blessed by the passion of the heart

and from the storage of good cheer

did she scatter loaves

towards the poor,

she made sure she tamed

their hunger;

Yes, they were poor

but certainly not needy,

as their children enjoyed

regularly square meals a day

She lay herself

on the cross of kindness,

crucified herself in justification,

sweating to make sure

a smile came upon each of their face

But she continued to be

wounded of their ignorance,

and left bruises

from the wildness of their nonchalance,

everyone took from her,

financial ticks,

till she became a walking corpse,

devoid of even blood,

They bore holes through her

with the proboscious demands

till she faltered

and they abandoned her.

By Kakraba Afful