Last kick
Picked stone
Metal shined
Turned mirror
Sharp blade
It was knife
Acted so
Had a voice
Made to cut.
Legs tied, lamb
On its side
Man-knife-team
Power-filled
Went to work
Side to side
Cut throat
Blood Gushed!
I was child
Looked in eyes
Both brown
War was lost
Heard them talk…
And life moved…
Where to where?
Last kick said:
-it is hard
-hard to die
From then
I watch death
On its way, to exit
Always legs
Always kick
What is this?
The cockroach
On the desk
Squashed
Did the same
A last kick…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem