The Drought, by Olivia

The following poem was written as part of a poetry-writing event at Spurgeons Academy, to mark World Poetry Day

The Drought

By Olivia

The sun’s about to set, it’s getting dark

A cold wind sweeps across the empty land

This used to be the time for telling stories

But no-one feels like telling stories now

A thin goat cries for food, but no one hears

A child stands up and pulls his mother’s hands

She looks at him, her eyes filled with tears

Two men are speaking quietly near the hut

‘I am sure our ancestors are doing this’

The old man says. His friend agrees. He nods

And goes away. The long, cold night begins

The morning comes. The old man leaves his heart

And walks along the path towards his farm

He faces east and sees the cruel sun

His eyes explore the sky, he shakes his head

A dry wind blows and fills his eyes with dust

He looked around the seas

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