By: Victor K. Amu/ www.africanakua.com, Ghana
If I can write a poem
I’ll call the six in one to the rescue
Oh our Mother who art in hell.
They deleted the Master
We clicked undo.
Tell Kwame his Ghana is gunned
Tell Dankwa his cedi is dollared.
Was your flag not in four colours glued together?
It has been shredded into political colours ooo
The yellow given to the stranger
You know we’re very kind to strangers
Our pride: the black is lost.
This is why I want to be a poet.
Call Awunor, my John
Tell Diop, tell Brew
For the baptism, I cry.
TO BE CONTINUED IN THE NEXT WEEKLY EDITION