Francisca Darko Biography

The blades, they cut, rip at her soles
The blackened shards, put there by your hand, maybe her own
But she'll smile, it's already a lesson learnt- she dances alone,
Upon your jewelled throne, you sit and condone
...

The table was set with the sweets and the trinkets
The one they came to meet was laid in a blanket
Of all their kisses and the hugs
And all their pinches and the tugs
...

When I pray,
I pray for the last dropp of snow
For the cute little button on the young doe's nose
For the last drip of chocolate on the mixing spoon
...

I write on my page
Embedded they sink
Describing an image
With nothing but ink
...

The heavens open
And the rain errupts
The sky has spoken
There's no way to interrupt
...