Our Poor Mother

She sits on prison shelf
legs broken and aching
ears pierced with thorns
eyes full of rolling tears
back bent due to torture
heart eaten raw with chilies
head covered with bandages
body wrapped in dirty rags
her spirit caked into powder
but her  will to live is unbeaten
many live in Sub Saharan Africa
Copyright © | Year Posted 2018

Poem

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Be the first to comment on this poem. Encourage this poet.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace