The Good Die Young Poem by givemore Manyengawana

You went outside the house to play in the sun,
An unlicensed driver recklessly drove in the street at high speed,
He struck you as you were on the road side,
You propelled into the air and hit the tarred road with your head,
You rolled on the ground,
Eye witnesses were petrified,
The land Lord rushed you to the hospital
You had survived the struck,
Your Mother was called from the marketing were she sells goods,
On arrival at the hospital she called me at 12: 45 PM,
Before 1.00 pm i arrived at the hospital,
I Heard you were in the intensive care unit,
YOU needed a head scan, so were were transferred to the other hospital,
You just remind me of the conversation i had had the previous day,
To marketing radiology equipment and medical drugs from America, i had asked somebody to prepare the market base,
i saw you off in the ambulance, i assisted to lift your oxygen tank into the ambulance, You breathed,
you made it to the scan and i saw you again in the resuscitation room.The last time i saw you alive.i could tell from the look in your eyes that you were leaving but i was adamant,
i did not want to believe,
So many kids have been caught astray Taku, So many young kids have died in hundreds, The Hiroshima, or taken away by the Pied Piper and buried in mass graves,
You were just four years old on Friday 03 December 2010,
Preparing to know me and develop fond memories with me,
i could not live with you yet is your uncle
On Saturday tears could not be held back all our faces,
We cried, crying tears of your innocence, but you were lying in state,
On Sunday 05 December we took your body from the mortuary,
Tears streamed down our faces, we all loved you with all our hearts,
I owe you a train ride at the park,
i wanted you to laugh, you putting own your camouflage shorts,
Mama told me you were asking for your ice cream on the phone
Your grand mama was asking you to come for Christmas at the rural homestead, i was just trying to recite a poem by Robert Frost called When the frost is in the pumpkin, you and grandpa were going to play the fellas.i anticipated the smell of cow dunk for you and gathering wild fruits in the country,
Sorry Takudzwa i cannot even find words to rhyme in this poem, my hearts is so full of emotions, but how can i decode them rhythmically