Wilma Barnard


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Best Poem of Wilma Barnard

Killed

If you take a rope and hang me from my neck
You wont hear me utter a sound trying to beg
If you put me in a closed room, let poison fumes role in
You wont here my crys that will make your ears sting

If you make a glass of deadly poison for me to drink
I wont say a word, my vocal cords bring
If you put a gun to my head with my finger on the triger
You wont see me forced trying not to shiver

But instead you put a knife against my throut
The knife blunt, like your feelings afloat
You rather push me from your hearts cliff
To look down on me, my body later ...

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