The Night He Died Poem by Chuks Kevin Nwaokolo

Arrest him for trying to survive,
You can try to break him,
Bend him backward over and over,
Deny him the satisfaction to speak,
Play him around like a ball,
Place him on the back sit of your cruiser,
But still like the boss,
You are his chauffeur.

Undress him...
Take away his everything,
Give him a new look,
Deny him his rights,
Call him a prisoner,
Tag a number on him,
You can shackle him,
Still like the shepherd,
You guide over him.

Cut him out from a place of high esteem,
Push him into a steel cage,
And lock the gate that will lead him to light,
Swallow the keys,
And spit on his face,
Sleep or eat is at your own command,
Whit your inhuman staff, you hit on him,
But still like the angel,
You watches over him.

Tick tack, tick tack,
The time is here,
He shall soon be taken away,
Whit hood over his head,
Guided by two unknown men,
As he dance side by side,
Into a steel chair they place him,
Surrounded by vampires waiting,
To feast on his God given blood and life.

Like an epilepsy patient,
He dance to the tone of unheard music,
Tonight was the night you killed him,
Excuse me mr executioner,
Who's only hand fits to lower the lever,
You just killed a man,
Remember that.

Like the tree falls on a stormy night,
Whit its branches fallen apart.
You die the night you pull the lever,
The night he died.