Miss Sorrow Poem by Tigana Chileshe

Looking towards her fate, nothing good but her death.
Tears on her face, falling down on her empty plate.
The wilderness is her place, sorrow is her mate.
Wearing rugs as her clothes nothing else to cover up to the neck.
Crushing down on her kneels, no one there to hold her heart.
Emptyness all around.
An empty life is all she lives.
Love me please is all she wants,
but no one listens and no one cares,
so she lives waiting to die.