Edward Kofi Louis

Gold Star - 130,767 Points (13th October 1961 / Accra, GHANA)

50 Cent - Poem by Edward Kofi Louis

'I will kill you like a snake',
'I will roast you like a chicken',
'I will fry you like a plantain',
So roll, roll, roll your boat when,
You have a killer gun in your pocket.

I was born in the ghetto with,
The status of poverty without a fish in my hand;
I was taught in the ghettto with,
Much tears than hope;
I was brought up in the ghetto without the Statue of Liberty to salute!
So roll your boat with the gun in your pocket;
But, who is there to cover up your actions?

I was taught in a mud-house without slippers on my feet!
And, that's the kind of society i cam from;
I had my education on the streets with,
Fights, hunger and starvation to crown the day! !
But, your killer gun in your pocket will give you up one day.

Taught by the streets,
Lived by the streets,
Learned by the streets,
Loved by the streets,
Hated by the streets,
And, many of us married by the streets;
The cluster of a phobia into my maturity,
That is why i do not respect the gun in your pocket today.

Stealing and looting! !
With plans to make the next move,
And, as a human-being who lives on 50 Cent a day.
Life in the ghetto,
With the status of poverty without a fish in my hand;
Life to me was just like the mountain of snakes,
So, just roll your boat with merry on your face.

Life's fair fountain that eluded me! !
With stealing and looting as the order of the day;
And of the plans to make it work.
I was just living on 50 Cent a day,
And, joy to me was like the roasting of a chicken;
Hope to me was like the killing of rabbits! !
Peace to me was like the frying of plantains;
And, of an excellent value for many of us when one dies,
But were still mulling to make a case like a courageous leader.

To live on 50 Cent a day in the ghetto! !
With the muse of the cluster of a phobia into my maturity;
Life in the ghetto,
Life on the run with the bullet train!
But at times, it was like the straw on a camel's back.
Life in the ghetto,
Like the golden cup whose shock aroused! !
When one equals to a temper of heroic hearts;
With the negatives to meet all day Long.
Life in the ghetto,
Like half-naked Young Lovers who called for help!
Life in the ghetto,
Like the peace of one's mind with questions to the moon;
But all along, i have managed to live on 50 Cent a day.


Comments about 50 Cent by Edward Kofi Louis

  • Mohabeer Beeharry Mohabeer Beeharry (5/21/2016 5:52:00 AM)

    Hi this is pretty hard life. It takes courage and ambition to rise and succeed. This is what being human is about. Great writing and great feeling.
    Mohabeer Beeharry (Report) Reply

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Tapan M. Saren Tapan M. Saren (5/17/2016 10:30:00 AM)

    You've written a outstanding poem sir (Report) Reply

  • Chukwuma Ndububa Chukwuma Ndububa (5/8/2016 8:14:00 AM)

    It began like one joke of a piece but read strong and stronger downward.

    A good one, Sir. (Report) Reply

  • Madhabi Banerjee Madhabi Banerjee (4/30/2016 1:55:00 AM)

    wow! what a realistic poem. great work. thanks for sharing (Report) Reply

  • Tribhawan Kaul Tribhawan Kaul (4/28/2016 6:04:00 AM)

    Life in the ghetto well expressed. I admire the boldness in your write. Keep writing. :) (Report) Reply

  • Kiran Kukreja (4/24/2016 8:12:00 AM)

    What can one say...the rawness of it...' the muse of the cluster of a phobia into your maturity'...hope it transforms in ways never thought of... May God bless! (Report) Reply

  • Jasbir Chatterjee Jasbir Chatterjee (4/18/2016 5:27:00 AM)

    Nice poem! You bring out the desperation of the poor very well in this poem. Thanks for sharing. (Report) Reply

  • Jr Gr (4/18/2016 2:15:00 AM)

    KOFI - thanks for your 50 cent a day. It illustrates the way life as it is shaped by the unseen rulers has come down to money. Money is life. Not as it should be that a man/woman has his natural ability to survive in dignity with what God has provided. After all, everything we have comes from our planet. Money divides. Divide and rule. Its a conundrum. Born poor and live life to the full. Born rich and live life keeping the poor poor. Get rich and suddenly you are alone. You lose living life to the full and live life keeping the thieves in the banks and the government from stealing your money legitimately. These thieves are those born into riches or who see it and join them. The Stock Market is the greatest con and perpetrator of poverty. Using Global Warming as another disguise to shield its grip on the population keeping them wage-slaves. It must be obvious that the planet has been warming since the last ICE-AGE. We can live in warmth. We cannot live in Ice. WAKE UP poets of the world. Unite and bring about a world government. Peace on you. (Report) Reply

  • Nalini Jyotsana Chaturvedi Nalini Jyotsana Chaturvedi (4/13/2016 3:34:00 AM)

    How profound how real! (Report) Reply

  • Philo Yan Philo Yan (4/1/2016 2:28:00 AM)

    Sorry, my comment on another poem of yours was meant for this poem. (Report) Reply

  • Ejay 1806 (3/29/2016 8:50:00 AM)

    Amazing poem. Touched me a lot. Do comment on my poem. (Report) Reply

  • Deepanshu Malik Deepanshu Malik (3/24/2016 8:21:00 AM)

    seriously it looks like a rap, its amazing man, please read my new poem oh my dadi(grandma) http: //www.poemhunter.com/poem/oh-my-dadi-grandma/ and suggest me (Report) Reply

  • Moira Cameron Moira Cameron (3/15/2016 10:36:00 AM)

    Such an amazing vivid poem. I love the way the imagery shifts - as in the two references to the Statue of Liberty - the shifting, the ebb and flow of this evocative poem got me entirely caught up in the rhythm, like being trapped in a fast flowing river of thought. I am so glad I read this poem of yours! Thanks for writing it! (Report) Reply

  • Atasha Williams Atasha Williams (2/26/2016 11:33:00 AM)

    Wowwwwwww brilliant use of imagery... I know people who still carry one of those guns in their pocket.
    Gr8 work Eddie! ! ! :) (Report) Reply

  • Boniface Mundu Boniface Mundu (2/26/2016 10:29:00 AM)

    Poverty is need not be a curse for man, it could be an opportunity to be humble and closer to God, or to perhaps to become a more virtuous man in life whom the world remember and imitate in the years to come. (Report) Reply

    Boniface Mundu Boniface Mundu (3/1/2016 10:24:00 AM)

    In this poem I find the speaker to be rising to sublime state of life. The character is like a lotus leave that is untouched anything but its own inner strength to slough off water from its plate.

  • Jerome Chukwuemeka Jerome Chukwuemeka (2/11/2016 2:33:00 PM)

    Wow! ! ! I read it, how many times? Yet not enough for my hunger of it. Great work Kofi.. (Report) Reply

  • Roy Ballard Roy Ballard (2/8/2016 2:06:00 PM)

    Should we wring our hands and say 'How hopeless is this ghetto'? No, because it is crowded with life, as crowded as the fetid bogs and marshes where life evolved in the first place and as full of hope. We see the ghetto as a horror, and so it is for gentle folk who caught 'Life's fair fountain, but it is in the cockpits of the world that mankind progresses. Even here you will find love and tenderness and the vital urge to do better.
    Thank you for prompting these thoughts with your poem. (Report) Reply

  • Howard 'the motivational poet' Simon Howard 'the motivational poet' Simon (2/2/2016 12:27:00 PM)

    A sad story that surges with significance in dealing with the plights of poverty. Well done my friend! (Report) Reply

  • Valentin Savin Valentin Savin (2/1/2016 9:58:00 AM)

    What a poignant and sad poem of a life one has to go through. It has produced such a deep impact on me. I wish you all the best in your powerful writing. Thanks for sharing. (Report) Reply

  • Ernest Makuakua Ernest Makuakua (1/15/2016 2:43:00 AM)

    hhm touched and inspired thank you so much for sharing

    Life's fair fountain that eluded me! !
    With stealing and looting as the order of the day;
    And of the plans to make it work.
    I was just living on 50 Cent a day,
    And, joy to me was like the roasting of a chicken;
    Hope to me was like the killing of rabbits! !
    Peace to me was like the frying of plantains;
    And, of an excellent value for many of us when one dies,
    But were still mulling to make a case like a courageous leader.

    THANKS FOR A BEAUTIFUL PIECE HERES A 10 FROM ME (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Thursday, July 31, 2008

Poem Edited: Wednesday, September 11, 2013


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