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Tales of the good old days

Coat Ananpansah The writer is Abraham Ananpansah, a blogger

Sun, 18 Mar 2018 Source: Abraham Ananpansah

Now the good old days are gone,

To God be the glory for reality is dawn-

Life from of old;A story to be told

Told of a society that blossomed like a lily

Told of days we drunk in the same calabash

Played football matches

Drunk palm wine in batches

But never ended up slanging matches

For neighbourhoods were Virgin and divisions were merging.

Those were the days-

Days,I was much older than I am today,

Life was drunken by pleasure,

Wives were heightened treasure

Toil to children was joyful leisure

We stood,elders sat and told fairy - tales

The paths our father's constructed were not sold

Our story was thus,gold.

Now the days are gone,

And here,I speak of the good old days our smiles were innocent

Music made meaning to the kids

It was kpana that made the hits

Bamaya moved the feets

Feok groomed the kids.

But now,the good old days are gone

And we may say the past is sold

We may say society is dead-

Dead to politics

Dead to hatred

Dead to vile envy

We may say the bank of happiness is bankrupt

The solid rock of brotherhood is broken.

The days are gone

And we may say,

We may say neighbourhoods have become islands

Progress a fairy wish land

Mecies that tripled are now,cripled into curses.

Now the good old days are gone,

And so I cry,O great Christ

Thy servant cries

Save us from these crises

For time has stolen the good old days

And I seek those days.

Columnist: Abraham Ananpansah