Poetry: Barren

No cries wake me up
In the middle of night
To ask for a tend

No tears raise me up
To bring out my breast
To show my fluid is needed

This my apt area has none in its fold
This my suitable space is so cold

Open and close I do to physicians' doors
In and out I step in clergymen's...
Their instructions, my daily habits
Their counsels, I eat like biscuits

I grow thin inside
I'm famished

No hope comes from it
The tale I heard about Sarai
And one I heard of Hannah

Child of prayers
If you'll come, come now
Before my big bags and fat tummy
Are sent back...

© Omomeji Ayobami

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