Lost Humanity Poem by Charles Wamuti

At 3 AM under the street lights,
A young couple,
Intoxicated out of their senses,
Itching to make love to each other,
Oblivious of the dangers around them.

They walk to an alley,
Behind a bar in the big city,
Finding favour to cover their intended act,
Away from very few prying eyes on the streets,
Into the dimly lit back street.

“It’s dangerous”
Two men on the bar’s back door warn them,
But as if no warning they proceed,
And start fondling each other,
Caressing and kissing in romance.

Then a hoard of huge street boys appear,
Acquainted of the two men on the bar’s back door,
The hoard demand money from the couple,
They want all their valuables,
At least to make their ends meet.

The couple now conscious,
Of the peril that has struck them,
They say they have no money,
That they own no valuable,
That all is spent on drink.

As if policemen,
The hoard frisks them,
From top to bottom,
Side to side,
Clearly in doubt of the couples words.

The two men at the bar’s back door watch,
God watches from above,
Satan watches from below,
Alley cats to scared scatter,
And watch from the small cracks.

Finding nothing badly the hoard beat the lad,
Injuring him as if a suspected witch,
Putting the fear of death in his heart,
Taking away all his strength,
Almost eluding with his life.

Then they turn over to the drunk damsel,
They rip off her clothes,
Enjoying themselves as if on a succeeding mission,
And they touch her every part of her body,
As if in disbelief of her existence.

Some of them dropp their dirty pants,
Letting out their excited rattling snakes,
Others lift the damsel high up,
While the snake wielding hoards force themselves in her,
Roughly rape her; obviously not their first time.

They defile her in any possible way,
They enjoy the pleasure,
Probably it’s been long for their snakes,
Probably their snakes are used to it,
Probably just in frustration of their missed gold strike!

The badly injured lad wobblingly runs for help,
The two men watching all this,
Probably in their minds,
They justify themselves,
“We did warn them”!

The lad comes back with security guards,
The hoard scatter to the darkness,
The lass lies lifeless on the ground,
Maybe passed out,
Maybe too ashamed.

What has the hoard transmitted to her?
What severe damage has been done to the damsel,
What mental torture for lass?
Did she deserve all this?
Was it an earning of her drunkenness?

What has man turned out to be?
The hoard, the two men,
Even God in all his might,
Couldn’t strike a bold of lightning,
At least on the snake wielding hoard!