Sunday 2 October 2011

17th June 2003

A pregnancy gone wrong:
Was that what's ailing you
Till you couldn't stand or walk
Or even in your own tongue talk?

For days you haven't eaten
Or touched your water bowl
While all you did was sit there
And bleed to death my soul.

My prayers have gone unanswered
From that side of the sky
Like heaven has decided
It's time for you to die.

Two tickets for the next trip. please,
On the ship of death;
One's for my baby
Upon its final breath,
The other one's for me:
'Died of a broken heart',
What an epitaph that would be.