Death Poem by Joseph Cimanuka

O, Death! I curse you,
For you are impolite,
You don't knock before you get in.
Death, where is your pity?

Yesterday, you took my sister;
Today, you snatch my brother;
And tomorrow, you will take me.
Death, how like Samson you are!

Snip-snap, you've taken a zygote;
Snip-snap, you've eaten half-mature flesh;
Snip-snap, you've devoured an adult flesh;
Snip-snap, an old flesh is gone.

Have pity on this little child

Joseph Cimanuka all rights reserved