Skeletons
I sit On a coach made of leather
......
While she sits on a dust of mud and feathers
I walk under the cool breeze of the sun
.....
While she hangs an empty bucket on her head for a run
I dust the crumbs of leftovers
...
While she feeds the peace of her slumber
I travelled on wings over the blue
..
While her living in time is but a flu
Take my hand Africa
Take Your skeletons With you
And embrace hunger
Even in death
.
Copyright © Sajdah Al-Riyami | Year Posted 2009
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