Posted by Hikmahh on
When mum died,
The public litter bins became the mangers that sheltered my dinner.
When mum died,
I became a wardrobe of reekish rags,a popular carteen for flies.
When mum died,
The streets became my nest and the noisy mosquitoes my bedsharers
When mum died,
The dark clouds roofed me in rainy days and nights
When mum died,
The wet winds give me warmth on cold days and nights
And the sun pelted on me ice on warm days and nights
When mums died,
I became a family farm ox instead of the lawyer I dreamt of
When mum died,
I knew i lost my goddess on earth.