LHL

“JJJJJJJJJJJ… Wake up” I get tired of hearing these words every morning

“BonJou, my son. Kijan ou ye” I would reply “Bon”

Just a typical day on a early morning, and I walk through the evening, I can smell the fresh Griot and Lambi, coming from these sweet Haitian restaurant.

“Bon nwi” Dad would say
“Good night” Mom would say

This poem makes me...
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