The childish vulnerability caught me By the heart and throat, Nowhere else, it seemed. There was a touch of panic. I felt the finger was on me, I was limed by her but struggle To get myself free. Only the space of a day; Morning, noon and night- To bring such change! It was there, the trap I had tried To avoid and would avoid! The bitter sorrow of a love, That is fruitless and ridiculous… Once more, the clown’s trousers Had fallen down. I cursed myself inwardly, Protesting to myself all wasn’t lost. The wine was still on the table- The mature man’s consolation. Then, paper man that I am, I began to think – WHAT A STORY! Written by Kwadwo Mensah Aggor
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