poem: Harmattan by Nice

When the day is a bit dark,
And you hear the leaves bark,
The whooping sound of the trees,
The birds cuddling up the trees,

You should remember that its harmattan,
And just as Islams have their Ramadan,
We must have this season,
When you can never find it drizzling,
Every morning it comes like a storm,
It shakes every living born,
Can't you feel its attack on your lip,
It cracks lips like a storm cracks a ship,
You can barely get up,
All you want is the day to hop off,
And with time it wears off,
Coming again in full force another morning,
One thing is so sure now,
You can never escape its shower