Metaphorical Ghanaian Summer
Folks wait for Summer,
They hope for him because he’s warmer.
Summer came and then a new song.
Not very long with music twas sung.
With noses high in the air..folks breathed him down.
I swear I can smell him now.
Gallant, high, strong fellow.
Summer came and we knew he was hero.
But Summer was softer,
He always brought folks together.
And I, I just kept them apart, it seemed forever.
“Oh! She is coming we have to prepare forher” they said.
Not like a welcome but like a disease they feared.
I came and no one to greet me,
No bright faces, just puffed up coverings
I had been quarantined, infectious
They wouldn’t cover up if I wasn’t so odious.
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