YOBE SCHOOL BOMBING: WHERE IS THE BREATH OF FRESH AIR?

Here is a poem, a question, a cry for and by the dead and the living: A hundred and fifty million noses sniffing the air, Searching for the fragrance that is not there. They go sniff, sniff; father, mother and the brood, For they said our Shepherd had Luck, he was Good. A breath of… Continue reading YOBE SCHOOL BOMBING: WHERE IS THE BREATH OF FRESH AIR?