THE ORPHAN
The days are short, the nights too long
As I sit, head in hand.
loneliness a welcome guest.
I mourn my fate,
repeating questions to those with ears
Without finding answers;
Why is mine different?
Why did mine return so soon?
Why did God not see others?
Why only mine while loves best?
Why do I have to walk the world alone?
and at such an early age?
handle responsibilities
only adults dream of?
Because God loves me best
And thinks being an orphan
suits me well?
Silence , upon silence,
I wrap my arms around loneliness and pain
And wait for what I do not know.
© bernadette Nyam
10/05/2022