Sometimes I do think the sun was angry when she was hot
People hide underneath the tree branches, some throw down mats
And in few minutes they snore out there fatigue without remorse
They blow trumpets, letting their mouths wobble in defeat
Yet I wonder if by chance the suns heat was responsible,
As her benevolence was misinterpreted as a queer malevolence
But she did her work and as the day will be soon spent
She must take her heat somewhere else but the snorer must snore
Commentary.
Image by my twelve year old brother, Chijindu Favor Iroegbu who just celebrated his birthday yesterday, 18/01/2018. A cheerful year to him, I wish.
