The Death-Row Poem by Tony Adah

The Death-Row



In the dungeon an electric chair waited
For who exactly I do not know
The death row men, deaf and dumb
Guided their fate in low groans
With their hearts in their tremulous hands
The chair waited
As the men waited
And death dawdled.
Here or there
Everyone is on the death row
Depending on man his ways
Still the jail is full
And the gel bottle of death empty
Or yet to fill.
It will come when it is time
And anybody could go away from this
Dingy earth in the eyes of man.

Wednesday, December 2, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: fate
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