Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jan 5
If you're reading this,
Don't think I committed suicide,
Don't call cops to my grave,
And don't read my eulogy,
Its not a tale I would tell,
Its not a story to narrate,
Its from the fairy of the nights,
So to the murderer in white,
Who threatened me with a knife,
Carry a gun with you, next time,
Sharpen your knife thrice,
And keep your axe too.

My complexion takes, black, red, purple and white,
So to my murderer in white,
When you see me in red,
Spare my valentine,
When you see me in black,
Let me mourn my death,
When you see me in purple,
Pay me my respect,
When you meet me in white,
Drop your arms,
And if you ever happen to meet me naked,
That's the real me, unmasked,
And weighed down with anxiety,
Who's escaped the knife twice,
But wished for it thrice.
Written by
Decra Kerubo  17/F/Kenya
   Larry Marshall
Please log in to view and add comments on poems