Baskadia

Last night, we sat and stared at the moon
She gave me a flower, and left soon!
I carried it home into my bedroom
And kept it in a box along with my books!
But what did she mean?

At dawn I rushed for the box.
It had wilted and dried off
The flower was now a rock!
But what did it mean?

Tonight I sit at the same spot all alone.
And stared at the moon, I can’t find her
But what is the point of moon light
When I’m all alone by myself again?
Why do people leave?


Emmanuel Obalim