MAHAMMA ADRIANNE Poems

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.
...

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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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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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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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
...