Dry Tears Poem by Ismail Nsubuga

Good morning, -mum-
In the morning I used to say.
Good evening, -mum-
In the evening I used to say.
When I came back from school,
I'd shout your name down every hall—
But now I trace the empty walls,
And no reply comes back at all.

The clock still ticks, the sun still falls,
Your teacup waits, untouched, so small.
I clutch my books, my throat runs tight—
*Dry tears* drown day… and scream goodnight.