Poetry - inspired by Chapter 7 - 'Nothing to declare'

My delicate, beloved dress

Sewn by my dead mother
Scissors appear
They cut through the glistening thread
I feel absolutely devastated
I attempt to try and grab
But am taken back
And left to watch

Cruel cuts destroy
My most precious possession
But the memory must live on
Temitope

Sweet, precious mother

Shines like a sun
Turned off one day
By a trigger from a gun

Shock grabs my hands
And never lets go
I love no one
All I want is to go home

Dilara

Beautiful, strange Femi

My brother and always will be
Wooden with shock when Mama dies
I feel so angry
Won’t even hold my hand
Slipping away from me