2nd October, 2015 Writers

Once upon a time, 

there lived an old woman

 in the village of mann,

 she has a very large farm

 she grew beans on her land

she ate only what she harvested by her hand

she ate from no one and gave to no woman or man

then came rain upon the whole land

for seasons unending it rained

there was not much she can lay

so there she laid

 for mornings and mornings

nights and nights

the rain fell for days

months and years

and hope has no rays

and there she prayed

calling the ancestors to take

the life she once embraced

when she opened her eyes

there she was, with her fathers of age

in a cavern hidden in the hills of age

they smiled at her, she might say

she felt welcome, I’ll say

something is not right

she suddenly realized

they are not her fathers by her side

that was the ghost hunter’s side

no! they where the ghost

the ghost that hunted her father’s ghost

she wanted to cry out of her ghost

but there she lay with no strength

for the rain gave no harvest

and she ate only her harvest 

by herself

only her neighbours could have helped

but them she never gave her harvest

she ate all by herself

and now

she could not ask.

Rivers, Nigeria
  • The images are from #Kindergardenclassic. Do not make yourself an ireland.#Aristotle! We all need somebody to lean on, someday.

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