Mr. Africa Poetry Lounge!

Hanging From The Tree


Sad as I stand
In the midst
Of those
Who have
Made a decision
I would look better
Swinging
From the old tree


They are standing around
Watching me
Hanging there
As I,
In my
Ghostly form
Walk amongst
This evil mined
Crowd


It began at noon
When I stepped on a shoe


That shoe
Was an important shoe?
By my executioners
Standards.


They carried me off
To old dark
Bobbed tree


To swing me
As an object
Of no care


How unfair
My neck
Felt
Breaking
As I danced
In mid air

Written by Hassan Amin

<----> SEND THIS POEM TO A FRIEND! <---->

Mr. Africa Poetry Lounge