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Sep 2016
She** limps,
Through the cornfield,
Hand pressed below her abdomen,
The pain makes her grimace.

She drips,
The blood soaking into the fertile soil.
Behind her,
Flowers sprout from each drop.

She limps on,
Leaving a trail of flowers on her wake
Finally, she reaches the road
And disintegrates into dust.
Make a sentence from the bold words.
Angela Okoduwa
Written by
Angela Okoduwa  Lagos
(Lagos)   
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