A Little Too Little Poem by Naa Takia

Fusty bread, larva infested water
Threadbare clothes, I dreaded morning
For it spells rumbling of my Pot
With no antidote to reverse that body butchery virus
Days longer, hunger worsening
My brow, an inch longer with sunrise…

Medicals shooting, Penny weakening
Condition worsening, my death chariot riding closer
No strength to hold-up our destined union
Till he draws near planting
The kiss of death on my pale cheek
A pill could have delayed this rendezvous

I would call baobab my home, only I land down
Devils grass passing? I suffer its unending prick
Still the open remains my shelter
With crooks my entertainers
Rapists dancing in and out my skin
Robbers sharing my day old treasured bread

I hardly know this being they call love
They claim she remains compassionate
They say he is concerned
Be it her quality or his trait,
I know not! I never met either
This I know…

My chamber of food remains empty
My sugar level? Zilch…
Home remains my nightmarish
My voldemort, averting my rest
Chariot of death awaits me
My rider bids greetings arm stretched!