True Love Poem by Bartholomew Arkoh Boamah Sarbah

In your presence I wish to be
Where your countenance shall make me smile
I am not one of them
Those who wasted the sweet milk that flows from your bosom
For their sexual ecstasies
And turned your heart against love

The played with you
And obtruded you innocent
Cameleons, they came to prey
Hiding under a cover
And you thought they were angels
And they took the bloom off your love

Dogs that flirt around
Vultures that know no pride
They have mocked at your dignity
And have praised their ignorance
Alas they h