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THE GROWN UP CHILD

Is she still that naive?
She’s still inexperienced?
Does she know what she crave?
I think she must be fenced.

Who’ll stop this grown up child?
She’s blindly going wild.

Is her crude oil used up?
That she drains in cup…
Her children’s sweat and blood.
To fuel her lamp; her world.

Who’ll stop the grown up child?
The sit’ation’s no more mild.

The lamp emit outrage.
And poverty and dooms.
Keeping Peace in cage.
Set loose are cruel bomb booms.

Who’ll stop this grown up child?
Who’ll wisely, her, please guide?

She’s grown up, yet she crawls.
Wrapped in ignorance shawls.
She sits by her flam’ng lamp.
Tired; tears, her face, make damp.

Who’ll heal her dying heart.
She is breaking apart.

Confused, she’s stretched her hand.
She touched the flames and moan.
In pain, her woes expand.
I always thought she’s grown!

Who’ll help this little giant?
Her strength is growing faint.

As she wails from the pain.
She kicked the lamp -so bane.
And it fell and explode.
Burning down her abode.

Who’ll save this grown up child?
In who, can she confide?

crying girl child

Isholaayodele Wasiu

Author: admin

I am a member of the WRR editorial team.

  • Ah, life. It throws us around.

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