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"bedsharers" poems
When mum died, The public litter bins became the mangers that sheltered my dinner. When mum died, I became a wardrobe of reekish rags,a popular carteen for flies When mum died, The streets became my nest and the noisy mosquitoes my bedsharers When mum died, The dark clouds roofed me in rainy days and nights When mum died, The wet winds give me warmth on cold days and nights And the sun pelted on me ice on warm days and nights When mums died, I became a family farm ox instead of the lawyer I dreamt of When mum died, I knew i lost my goddess on earth.
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Jan 23, 2014
Jan 23, 2014 at 4:18 PM UTC
When Mum Died