Kobe Twenty Four Seven
Soon, I must awake
From this deep, traumatized,
Deadly, dreary, doomed, dream
Of the devil and it's advocates
Afflicting my mind
Like a plague;
A ferocious flash flood
With a dubious proclamation:
Ah! the great mamba is gone?
An Iroko tree has fallen!
The wicked, cold, cruel,
Clamy, claws of death
Has stricken Los Angeles,
And the world
With a plague deadlier
Than Pharaoh's and his kinsmen
On the day of Passover
Momentarily, the dreary, deadly
Wings of darkness
Has overshadowed and blanketed
Los Angeles, eclipsing the brilliant,
Illuminating light which shone
Forty one years over the world
Stealing away our sobriety
The great mamba?
This must be a dream!
Soon, I must awake
From this dreary, doomed slumber
To the reality
That:
the great mamba is not dead!
He is peacefully sleeping
Twenty four seven with the lord
Death you goofed on this one
Kobe, just scored a three pointer
Against the cold, clamy, claws of death!
Rest in peace Kobe!
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
