As an African Child

As an African child
I crawled on mama’s arm
Searching for an imaginary house
Which beared me with a fancy view
Of the coming clouds upon my head

As an African child
I jumped many times for seeing the clown
Who laughed and cried
Making jokes
Acting as an excellent spy
With many children in their bed

As an African child
I saw the bitterness on mama face
And tried to chase
Her shadow before her cheek got wet

As an African child
I drew my plans on the clay pot
I insisted to fly
Asking my sun to let in
The charming justice of light
And asking the darkness to rest

Written by Amirah AL- Wassif, Egypt, Damietta, Al Zarka

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One Comment Add yours

  1. Pat Bonner Milone says:

    Those last three lines ring true for all who witness the myriad injustices in the world today … not only toward humans; but to all creatures on our maimed planet.

    Like

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