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POETRY

ALHAJI T. A. MAHAMA (A Dirge)

The afternoon seems like a stormy day with a bright sunWhy the clouds keep moving close to the sun rays…I understand notMemories of you keep flooding As the static news of your gone staresYou were my premier boss in a formal wayYour just tantrumsYour quiet waysYour soft reproachesYour little to sayYour regal self in fugu…keep […]