I CAN’T BREATHE
In the moment of life and death
Cried I on the visible and the invisible for mercy
It was my crossroad
I fought for the last breath in me
The savior nigh, my blood fought to sustain the life in me
Cruelty has taken root in the heart of man
My voice piercing the ears of similar beings
But there was no sympathy
What can I do?
All I could say was,
“Please, please, I cannot breathe.”
“I can’t breathe. Please, the knee in my neck.”
Pleading and asking for water was a demand of my soul.
Just like a sheep to be slaughtered, I could have been served water.
It was the norm, and the last respect, but not in my case.
“My stomach hurts. My neck hurts. Please, please. I can’t breathe,”
The voice that still echoes in the heart of a writer.
Rest In Perfect Peace, George Floyd.
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Matthew D. Ahafianyo
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