I stared blankly,
hunched like a foetus
couldn't comprehend why they'd wanna kill
Jesus.
Couldn't they just leave us,
happy?
Could it be it was jealousy?
"The virgin Mary,
she had a baby?"
But my son didn't trouble anybody
i'm sorry.
He was a mirale worker,
any form of disease i'm sure he could cure ya.
I witnessed him,
crucified on the cross,
now everywhere I go
"Miss i'm sorry for your loss"
but you're not.
And this pain wont stop.
I wanna just kill myself,
but you and I know that's a sin in its self.
So i'm just gonna pretend,
that this isn't the end -
and some way, some how
i'll have my son with me
again.
By Ebony Ashantai
I like the rhythm in this poem as it gives it a good beat. It shows religious aspects and I like the fact that 'Jesus' is on a separate line as it shows how important that he is in this poem :)
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