Angry
Hungry
She holds her breath too long
In a far away land
Yards away
Her kin feeds the vultures
A fortnight after her folks succumbed
The sun
Scorching her skin
Rupturing her veins
Buzzards circling overhead
As the birds prey
Waiting for the feast
In another far away land
Hatred breeds
Against
hatred
They feed the already full
Even the birds that prey on humans
She coughs
And scoffs
The nation lost its way
None cares
No more
Death is just an addiction
Speeding life away
With no eyes on her
Except for the buzzards above.
a great philosopher in deed, this kind of death no one cares about the suffering except birds that instead feed the dead. joh hii ni turkana
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