A stranger called this morning

Dressed in black and grey

Put every sound into a bag

And carried them away.

 

The screaming of the children

The twisting of the lock

The chatting of the teachers

The ticking of the clock

 

The whistling of the kettle

The creasing of the pencil

The flushing of the toilet

The drawing of the stencil

 

The crying of the babies

The crashing of the chair

The spots of the chicken pox

The creaking of the stair

 

A stranger called this morning

He didn’t leave his name

Left us only silence

Life will never be the same.

 

By Abdifatah