My Mother
My motherOn old decayed wooden bedI saw you lying mumWith hell of a hopeWith sunken eyesGray hair, shrunken faceLooking at “nothing significant “ roofHoping hopes are unhurt. Hopes like a…
Investigating the Unseen – Freelance Research Journalism
My motherOn old decayed wooden bedI saw you lying mumWith hell of a hopeWith sunken eyesGray hair, shrunken faceLooking at “nothing significant “ roofHoping hopes are unhurt. Hopes like a…