Still Living Poem by Chima Njoku Ray

This poem, Still Living, is my thought on this girl I saw at a night club in Port Harcourt early last Saturday morning.

It was at about 5: 15am out in the cold parking lot. She was sitting motionless, propped up by a Ford SUV. The girl's eyes were so glazed that I wondered if she would ever come to.

Three other girls in tight denims were anxiously stroking her hair and worrying why the guy they came with was still wasting time to come take the girl home.

I asked and one of the girls told me that the dazed girl on the floor 'took what her head couldn't carry'.

Then I left. But I was worried if she would survive.

And, thank God, I was so happy on Sunday when I saw her entering that same SUV after their church service. Anyway, her eyes were still swollen.

So, in the poem, I imagine my thought meshed with hers. The poem could be seen as both the thought of the victim and the observer.

Although the inspiration for this particular poem is drug-related, most of us go through such miraculous brushes with the wings of death in the adventures of life. These most times make us think things that mirror this poem.