The wind talks

It holds emotions

Why? It lives.

You can’t see it

It brings words

Words of the spirit.

After the rain 

They wait, they seek answers 

Why? They are messengers. 

In the dark

They warn 

The wild rustling of trees.

The sweeping of dirts, 

The screams of the night,

They scream, they talk.

You just have to listen 

To the whispers

They see, they hear.

In the day,  

The sound of the ambulance,

The wails of the people,

And at night, the screams of the Night

Sharon Ukpe-Ukpe is a 15 year old aspiring writer, who lives in Abuja. She likes to experiment with words, and to listen to the voices in her head. 

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