The sun has risen
The birds chirp and warble
While all sapiens stretch
A whiff of mint on the crispy air
But it can’t be over
Only yesterday, sixty-one souls left
Breath slashed by violence
Is that all?
Shall we now dry our tears?
Cover over the graves
And go to our schools, offices, malls
With grief, a hot ball in our hearts?
I want heads to roll!
I want blood to flow!
I want fires to burn!
I don’t want the sun to rise!
And if its too late for that may it not set!
I want no stars tonight!
No moon, just a black, dark sky!
I want sixty one poems!
I want sixty one speeches!
I want sixty one hashtags!
I want sixty one days of mourning!
For three days can’t contain these tears!
How long shall we treat life cheaply?
Lose loved ones to faceless demons
Political intrigues and strange wars?
Dust, ashes and fire to rain down!
I want sixty-one teardrops
Anything to ease this pain
Oh I wish for it to go back
My wrists hurt
And I am just as guilty
I wish I could make this poem
But, I want you to read it.
Written by: Chikatito Jones
Edited by: Kukogho Iruesiri Samson
- What Can Words: Get Your Copy Now! (wordsrhymesandrhythm.wordpress.com)
- SHE WILL NEVER FORGET (by Kukogho Iruesiri Samson) (angrypoets4women.wordpress.com)
I am a member of the WRR editorial team.