She lay quietly on her old mat
Staring quietly at the porous roof
Into the sky that reminds her of floundered youthfulness
And her heart skipped with fear again
Loneliness
A cruel cross reserved
For the fragile bones of the old
Each night visits her with one apparel
Death!
Each morning breaks with only one melody
Death!
One day,
A snake will crawl through those broken wall
Cockroaches will feast in her pots
Grass will grow around her doors
Silence will forever descend on her house
Will her sons across the ocean
Hear the echoes of her death?
Will her hands ever caress the heads
Of those she brought to life
A sticky tear flowed silently down her eyes
She feared that strangers will bury her
She sighs as she falls silently asleep again
I hope this morning won't be her last
© Olatuja Oloyede
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