Robbed Heart Poem by priscah Mutswenje

The moon is down the sky
It picks a thick blanket
The rowdy town filled with silence
A hoot sharply descends from hell
From a distance a whisper is heard
A town too solo
Their swiftly flows groans
Ready to send their brutal brutal blows
Trees wave untidily, calling a ready heart
Walls tremble sadly with acrid sense.
Pity takes chance
She shivers
Throwing breathless cries
Her father scrawls with a roar
As the cock crows to alert the residence
The dull mother rest on the floor
Tightly holding the sickly creature on her lap
She reflects her past; torn
And is carried away in prayers.
Save her God! She screams plainly
I don't have money lord
Do not let her leave me
Silence unravels in the dark room
The little one can not breathe
Dawn breaks with sorrowful intense cries
As empty boxes forma long-lasting home
For the little one
She smiles in her death.