one lazy afternoon,
as I roasted corn
and mother made food
the word rang out
witch!
we ran and I heard
the screams of mother
dust in my eyes and ears
stones hitting her flesh
my bloodied fear
as she panted her innocence
mingled with stunned denial
the silent march to the grave
In darkened corners
mother’s ghost still whimpers
and my hate is still fresh
my vengeance assured
to those who gave
the shout
that closed my future
Thank you very much. I am honoured by your visit.
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