Her Sulky Cheek Poem by Nana Kwame Nketsiah
Her Sulky Cheek
I see pity in her eyes,
tears flow down her sulky cheek,
slowly to her parched lips.
I see her blink unhappily,
and her eyebrow bowed,
with the look of a lost saint.
I see her unkept hair,
and the ridiculous make up on her fine face.
I see she has the look of a miserable woman,
but in reality she is the artist of her fate.
She is the poor woman, whose heart has been broken.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 1:03:47 PM # 1.0.0.1119
The artist of her fate. I really love that line! Well done!