The Diary Of A Broken Man Part 2 Poem by Rodgers Ogola

There must be something wrong with me
For I have seen death but I did not fear it
Maybe all my pain has made me numb
When the grim ripper stared me right in the face
With his hollow eyes that are an undeniable shade of black
And his tar like cloak towering over his head
His form like the easterly winds swaying side to side
I found myself welcoming instead of dreading him
Even when he showed me his deathly blade
And made strange noises, I did not quiver
What had I to fear, what had I to lose?
I had lost everything that is dear
And I was tying a noose
But as I took that step to my hand made gallows, I stopped
There must be something wrong me
I know that for sure
A problem that has no cure