Woman child.

Pouted lips in a cast of cascading goodness

Her eyes a pleasant sight to behold filled with joy and happiness

Like the African goddess, she adorns her head with the ebony sweetness of hair

Her legs move to sway to nature’s rhythm

From her heart are the words sewn to give peace to the heart of man

She is but a child, yet a woman

The child is indeed the mother of the girl

Her features chiseled in perfect harmony to give praise to the Creator’s hands

She is made to wear the forced look of pleasure while dying inside

Through her eyes, you see blood

She refrains from letting the flood drown her

Her mind is a colourless jargon

She prays, then stops – who will hear

She wrapped her innocence in a sweet and gave it to the traitor

“bye” she says, “I know we will never meet again”.


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