They killed the man
I say they killed the man
They killed him
Yes, they killed him
They killed him at dawn
Yes, at dawn
With a gun
A real gun
Yes they did
And they say he died by firing squad
They killed the Woman
I say they killed the Woman
They killed Her
Yes, they killed Her
They killed her at dawn
Yes, at dawn
With a gun
A real gun
Yes they did
And they say she died by firing squad
They have always killed
Because as they say
It is the law
I know they killed some with a rope
Yes with a rope
Tied around their neck
And they say they died by Hanging
Dangling with shit beneath their bodies
They killed them for the same reason
Those who killed those
Who killed those
Are waiting to be killed by them
To continue to kill themselves
For the same reason
And yet, no good
Death by fire
Death by rope
Death at the hand by any means
MURDER!
When shall the people see tree
That bears the fruit
Of political tolerance?
Who killed those
Are waiting to be killed by them
To continue to kill themselves
For the same reason
And yet, no good
Powerful statements here. Your poetry no doubt can be one pointer to that tree out there on the horizon for Sierra-Leone. Excellent writing.