by Hawo Ali
That afternoon I didn’t know
Though, I thought you were coming back.
I still remember the people,
Who surrounded you.
I never believed that would be the last day.
As I entered the room, you kissed me with your blue lips.
I remember your pale skin.
I remember the back of the truck,
To which they put into your body.
I remember the blood pouring from your clothing.
That afternoon, where you give birth to my little sister.
As I pressed my face into your cheeks, you must have felt my tears,
Warmed on your skin; though.
I didn’t know.
That afternoon was the last day I would see you.
Last updated May 06, 2011