Aisha’s Dream

 

“Teach me how to read,”

Said serious, curious kid.

If mere signs became letters,

Life would turn out better.

 

“Teach me how to write,”

Said shy, sly seeking eyes.

Seeing peers with cheer and zeal

Peering from a box on wheels.

 

“Teach me how to add,”

Said Aisha as she cried.

She didn’t get her dad;

Too young to be a bride.

 

“Teach me how to draw,”

Said a spirit so forlorn.

Broken and tight jawed.

No still life, just a stillborn.

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