Read the Passage and answer this question.

Mark lies sleepless, his supine eyes rolling as he counts the rafters- vertically, horizontally, diagonally-over and over. There is continual rumbling in his belly. Lying so still, whom can he blame now? Isn't it his own fault to be like this? Three months ago, Atongo and Agbenya said they were leaving town because "things have become too hard." as they put it. They asked Mark to come along. He declined saying that he would have to prepare. Of course, he simply could not go-dare not. He had a pact with Akwele who sells kenkey downtown: neither could leave town without the other. At the time Mark's friends were ready, Akwele had travelled to Accra and would, unknown to anyone, not return in a hurry. This is why Mark is lying dejected on his bed, a hungry man. Anyhow, he is not an angry man.

Read the poem and answer the question that follows:

Walker, stop and let me move and check you

My sneaky, fleeting moon of reckless mirth

The light of hope you flashed at dawn has dimmed

And flickers weakly, so you squint at Earth.

Walker, stand and let me sit and quiz you

Will foes and friends be irked if Mum you tell

The bitter taste of woe behind your flue?

The trickling tears unseen announce your age.

Walker, stay and let me come and tell you

My fleeting moon, I own you dim my light

Your sparkling blouse has turned a darker hue

You must, I guess, have done a steeplechase.