Alfred Mukenya


No More Birthdays


I want my body to be a pathetic organ
With no life
Oxygen? cut-off! !
No more birthdays.

Call it suicide
LAPD call it homicide
Think what you may
I want no more birthdays

I need an eternal darkness
to haunt my untamed heart
O my poor ego
Wont see anymore birthdays

And when death comes
No grieving face will call my resurrection
Not even Lazarus' deal with Jesus and the devil
Will make me see another birthday.

Submitted: Saturday, June 28, 2014
Edited: Tuesday, July 01, 2014

Topic of this poem: death


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