MAHAMMA ADRIANNE

Malaria

Malaria is also Black.
‘Cos it affects Black.
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With all the good things it boast of
And the abundant bread loaf
Stinks it of underhand
Preying on someone else’s hand
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Me And My Critics

As the quantity increase,
The quality improve.
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That path is a slippery path.
Spirogyra carpets the path.
Spikes Ain’t on the path
Nor bumps on the path.
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Hearts are muscles
With horns like Rams
When one breaks
Hatred surfaces
The hearts
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Tears I shed for thine tragedy
The world treats thee with iron fist
Thou live without family
My both parents still alive
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The fish and chips is one of a reminder
It's one of the things I will forever remember
To eat and write over it, is much of a wonder
And reminds me of when I was a teenager
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Lord we are phoney, Thy mountains we trangress
The hearts are not bonny, Thy rules they digress

Lord we are not perfect, We must err
Our heart desires we picked, Thy righteousness we deter
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Siege, siege, gripped by fears,
And the eyes are filled with tears
Though shadows drenched the tears;
Dawn has exposed those fears
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There was her head all ears.
Face dark and dead,
Her eyes wide open,
And the soul so bare.
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Her absence, was heartbreaking as she was lone
There she would lie till sunset, on the lawn
Longing to see her face before dawn
Friends they were both
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Wild Bush
“Thou art growing a wild bush?
Thou mayest not contain wild life.
The bush hath sentiments.
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Thine love's so strong
As though lions' throng
Thou art bella dona to the core
Perhaps born with 10 Apgar score
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As thou won the elections’
Thou will begin to sew large pockets;
Where thou canst hide dollars.
Thou used to work for Nairas;
Count thou now in dollars.
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Clinical Pledge
I pledge to make a sacrifice
To treat my patients with patience
To uphold their honor and confidence
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Discussion Continues
The Sky shouts,
Nature weeps,
And my bucket fills.
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North And South Dichotomy

The South is tall
But the North is a fall.
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When I move the road keep closing and my heart keep pounding
The roads are black and white and I can’t choose either
One of the roads smell of dirt and the other bread and butter
The roads hate me or am just dejected?
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Farewell

In all or good conscience I hate to say goodbye
But it is something me can’t help
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Love is to make one the other, two but one in spirit
The ghost wants to friend the living when I see that I begin to wonder
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