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Urban Poet  Jan 2019
Urban Poet Jan 2019

Mogadishu, Somalia 1995.




The choppers echoed in the distance. As the missiles erupted.The machine gun fire was muffled by a bizarre sound. That is when my powerless body found the strength to turn around.

and then I saw it...

She was dead.

I failed to keep her alive.

I look at her crimson stained, ornate clothing. With beefy chunks of rosy bowels  pouring out onto the battered floor.

Then I waited for the rebels to come, for me this time...

During those seconds I realize what true fear was. The feeling that was eating and eating at my insides. Gnawing on my soul.

I killed her. She refused to go, so I forced her. I was the reason of her life ending.


— The End —