The broken bone cannot be made whole
The strong have sheltered in their strength
The swift have sought life in their speed
The cripple and the tired heaped out of the way onto the ant hills
Had been, bit by bit, half eaten by termites
The rough and ready were beginning
To tire of dancing to that one
Strange unfamiliar tune
The master of the house cracked his whip
In the realm of laughter and light
And mopped his brow with a silken cloth
It is only gods who know
Why the bones are broken
It is only the old who know why
The gods skip homeward at evening
And the master of the house
Now the master of rags
Stay behind on the rocks
to rummage in the rubbish heap
For castaway morsels of power
Kwesi Brew (1928 - 2007) Ghana
Source: Koranteng's Toli
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