A Crack In My Mother's Wall Poem by Gilbert Alasa

Somewhere among naked clouds
Have we, but waning songs to sing
How could we stand these lingering frowns?
Such that scorn our faces still

Celestial heritage blooming loud
With a brighter posterity staring
Yea, she was her fragile crown
In a million skulls, her name only resounding

I wish I could stop her apple beaming brown
And her wrench hurriedly limping
But now are we besieged by an army of crispy clowns
With yesterday maternal lusts plundering