Behind the wailing walls 26

Hassan Ahmed
The streets cry a sad cry
The streets speak a strange language
It is a language of sadness that hit the village
The stench lanes plant the dead seeds
To harvest priceless
The water flows to village
To snatch the children from cracked rooms
Even the river flow became graceless
Instead to be graceful to them
The remote angry class chant angrily
Soon, I will be classless
Where are they going?
Who will host them?
The only way to be adopted by the stench cell of heartless Father