by Tijjani Grema Mustapha
She takes things seriously
like the death.
A word she heard,
sadness will rain on her face,
and send away the shadow of beauty
on her face.
Mood swinging like day and night,
but yet, no complains utter from her lips.
Not a sane soul and neither insane.
What a beautiful girl she is,
but minds and brains are daft.
An asylum is the place
to take the confused soul,
but no space to keep people like her.
Days and days pass,
but the confusion keeps growing.
We've wandered many weary feet,
in search for a house to lay her,
to keep her away from gentle souls,
and the only place found was the grave.
And the world sent her
to her new home of sadness
and hidden from the world.