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Abdoullah Jaiteh Poem
We, are your friends
We spend each and every day with you including the weekends
Become your griots in the night, singing close to your eardrums
Our race love to dance, but you pretend to clap at us when our death is what you intend
How distasteful, the way a human pretends
Can’t you see, we love you so much that we come kiss your skin
We suck your blood so we can be related by kin
But you always show us hate with water dust and dirty air that make our heads spin
You want our race extinct yet you keep stagnant dirty water, open garbage and trash bins
This is a hypocritical irony as you commit major sins
Like murdering my mum, suffocated dad and my brother and broke my sister's wing pin
Why must you show us so much hate forgetting how long our relationship has been
In vengeance, we will stuff you with malaria and watch you fight a war that you can’t easily win
You lose sight of the fact that it’s for each other we are made
You make dark and dirty dwellings for us and we become the reason why most of your doctors a getting paid
So, treat us better when we come close to you or your bed
And don’t make the sound of your clap be to the music of our death
Until you agree and show us that these our simple rules, you would not bend
We shall continue to fight in this bloody war, to the very end.
sign: the Quitoes
Copyright © Abdoullah Jaiteh | Year Posted 2017
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Details |
Abdoullah Jaiteh Poem
I shout out in the dark,
My trembling voice echoes in the silent distance,
Sounds of breaking twigs drew closer,
As chruching pressures on dry leaves expose me from underneath my feet,
I struggle to keep my ears closed from hearing the sound of my own heartbeat.
I must always be on the run,
For the actions i left back home, this is a journey of no return.
I start to feel the bruise from jumping over a two meter fence,
In my attempt to escape from these men, who search for me in silence.
My brain refuses to process the options weather to stay put or just run,
My pulse bid me farewell at the sound of a shot gun,
That put pressure behind my lower waist which felt like looking at the sun.
Hide and seek with armed men is really no fun.
This is why i am on the run,
For the actions i left back home, this is a journey of no return,
I start to feel another bruise from jumping over a two meter fence,
In my attempt to escape from these men who search for me in silence.
He was a good-looking gentleman,
Came to visit not long ago from the land of the Whiteman,
He saw my beautiful mother and became her number one fan,
Yet he is Why i am on the run.
Because after a few weeks of being forced into a "Semester" bed,
The truth showed in his character and the life he led.
Liquor, coke plus the smoke he puffs out of his head.
My mum would protest but continually shut up by elders that were cheaply fed,
Until when she was put in a state, almost left her dead.
I slowly grew up watching my mother's belly grow bigger by the day,
At that time i thought she eats too much out of her way,
Until that day when i heard her shouting cries from on the ground where she lay,
Drenched in her own blood "PLEASE STOP" was the only thing she struggled to say.
For this reason i am on the run,
With the actions i left back home, this is a journey of no return.
I start to feel another bruise from jumping over a two meter fence,
In my attempt to escape from these men who search for me in silence.
I remember standing there watching my helpless mother gasp for air,
The heartless "Semester" held her throat and stood right there,
Swaying to the sides as he grabs his fingers through my mother's hair.
I turne to the frying pan that was left heating dinner,
Aimed for his head..., i aimed for his head and threw at the sinner.
The rest of the story i struggle to put together,
Because as i run to escape from these men,
I run,and run, and run till i ran out of ink,
So hand me a pen.
PLEASE!!!!
Copyright © Abdoullah Jaiteh | Year Posted 2017
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