I Watched Him Die Poem by Osazee Dankaro

I Watched Him Die

Rating: 4.5


From my vantage spot by the window
I looked into the darkened street.
Only a crescent moon gave off any light
As all generators had been hurriedly turned off.
There was no movement at all down below.
Yet, I could visualize the position,
Where the police van was parked
Their presence, to calm the neighbourhood:
Some young cultists shot sporadically in the air
And fled.

I watched him walk down the street.
Even in the semi darkness, I could see his bright red tie
Bag clutched tightly over his shoulders as he hurried along
My thoughts spiraled as to his hurry:
Maybe his wife called him about the disturbance,
Maybe he was not married, had gone out drinking
Maybe he was experiencing some unexpected bowel movement
Maybe it was none of those scenarios:
It was a dark night and he was on a lonely street,
Who wouldn't hurry?

I saw the muzzle flash and heard the loud report
I heard his sharp cry of surprise as he tripped
Clutching at his chest, and falling down, all at once
I saw his red tie flutter and his bag fly away.
I heard the dull thud as he hit the floor
I saw him twitch a couple of times before he became still
His wide open eyes staring directly at me
I saw blood pool underneath his body
I saw him lying there, still, his life quenched
Never to reach what he was hurrying to.

Sharp lights blinded me
The headlights of the police van had been turned on
I quickly ducked back into my room,
For I did not want to be seen and also made a victim
I heard voices of policemen shouting
As the whole street came alive
I stretched on my bed
Knowing that this night again, sleep will not visit me
For I could have saved him with a shout
And be dead alongside him.

I saw him again on TV in the morning:
Gallant policemen gunned down a cultist
The red tie and bag were gone
Just him lying on the floor in the same position I left him
Only this time, he clutched a sawn off shotgun
Staring at me still, even from the screen
He had died they said, in a shootout battle
Policemen versus cultists,
Luckily no police life was lost
Hurray for our brave policemen!

14/08/2017

Monday, August 14, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: police brutality
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Edward Kofi Louis 25 August 2017

Sleep will not visit me! ! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.

0 0 Reply
Jazib Kamalvi 23 August 2017

, A nice poetic imagination, You may like to read my poem, Love and Lust. Thanks

2 0 Reply
Osazee Dankaro 23 August 2017

Thanks Jazib. I will definitely do so.

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Rajnish Manga 14 August 2017

A murder most foul. An innocent man falling prey to the bullets of policemen. In all likelihood, this will be lauded as a big achievement when there was none. Isn't it a white wash? Thanks for a great poem.

1 0 Reply
Osazee Dankaro 23 August 2017

Thanks Rajnish. Your comment is much appreciated.

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