Quame Boatmann Biography

As bright as the morning star
The smile of the adversary
With the teeth of a twinkling star
Like no blood beneath, ne’er scary
...

The memories of my early days
Become as green leaves
Of the dew morning
Whenever I behold
...

As little as its value
Without grace or honour
Oblivion to the poor
And a door mat to the rich
...

So long have we been laboring
Too tight have we been stretched
Sharing the fate of Job
As we’re always denied the fruit of our labour
...

Cape Coast, Cape Coast
Where I belong
A Paradise I dream never to leave
As long as the sand calms the wrath of the tides
...