Slave Butterfly Poems | Slave Poems About Butterfly

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Slave To The Wage

She's in the H Bed for an overdose
She's a broken
But beautiful girl
A rose
In and out apparatus to help her breath through her nose
I'm her holding her hand because we're close

I'm her 
The weird one who has on his aunts dead husbands clothes

Capture this moment in a photo
"Will she be okay" I'm waiting for the doctors to let me know.
Discharged, out we go.
Back to inhaling and impaling but I'm a critic and an observer I never follow

So I said, "Don't make me cry"
I know what you mean by living everyday life like you want to die
All the sedatives and
okays are a lie
We must endure but why?
But I'll be okay if you don't say goodbye.

The paramedics came
She's back in again
It's all the same
A cycle of pain

Final breath
First death
Pale rose
Her eyes begin to close
Her soul goes.
The tears in out flows.

How am I to survive
When our talks kept me alive
Breaking my hands trying to revive
The one person who kept me alive


Nothing can describe the hatred inside for not having been strong enough to keep you alive
Between you and me the weak one survived
I'd give infinity and more to have you revived.

Copyright © James Ntsane | Year Posted 2015