ARTS AND CULTURE
- Victor Ugwu, E. Unimke Ugbong, William Okello Kadima
- 10 July 2017
2 Comments
We remember that sad morning, when the bombs exploded, when the cold air, suddenly became too hot, when the flock became wild, how they ran into the wild. look! see! The vineyard is still on fire! look! see! The market stalls is still on fire! We slowly limped, towards the west we head, to where the air is still cold, to where the field is still green, towards the West, to where came the bombs, we head.
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