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Conjolted Poetry

Conjolted Poetry

Friday, 21 February 2014

You, Yes you.

I was pushing my baby brother on his new cycle.
celebrating joy, oblivious of the fourth coming ploy,
then things started to fall apart like Chinue Achebe,
The house trampled over us with a hailstorm thrust.
Father who was walking towards could move no further.
he had been trampled by debris, his face peeped out,
smothered in white, I cried inside to set aside emotions.
I had to push my baby brother to the side like a Tetris.
Ayeh, the Tv fell over him and swallowed him,
sparked one last spark. his last cry I did not hark,
as I lay with a boulder over my chest, yelling;
low yells trying to quell the numbing pain from hell.
My yells faded as I watched debris marinate my brother,
as if the TV wasn't enough. then I saw the light flashing,
death was on its way coming, and everything faded out.

I hovered in the air, and watched the hails of smoke rise.
I watched my life come to an end like a bankrupt enterprise,
Life had played unfair, it sent us a controversial drone attack..

Life is strange,
One moment you could be skating high like Tony hawk,
then other you could be laying in your grave like a log;
feeling, Deadish...

Be careful and grateful, life comes and goes by quick.

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