Prose

Realm


The nation’s rips
Deluge at dawn
Crops shrink
Children torrent to unknown places
And everyone sobs on a blank stomach

The nation is failing
Many are whispering to me: “I want to flee!”
This sleaze is too tricky
When would it expire?
And be left for the vultures at the plains?

The road would be gratis
From the roaming bees
That quiver innocent children daily
That will improve rain to reel,
We shall be trained to smile all over again.

About author
Umar Osabo teaches English as Second Language (ESL) and English as Foreign Language (EFL) courses at the University of Hargeisa, Somaliland, East Africa
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