Don't Give Jongkersii your Gun
2 min readBy Taban Abel Aguek, Yirol, South Sudan
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Between his thoughts and life, Jongkersii
Had nothing he could see.
He wishes he could just plug off his eyes
So as not to see the rogue guys.
–
He wishes he could lose his hearing
So not to know they’re cheering.
And he wants something more,
That’s to no longer indulge in their war.
–
So his last wish is going float
Wholly,
And without a boat
Unholy;
–
To float like a lifeless migrant in the sea,
Or meet an angry hungry lion,
Not a happy one in a Zion
To let it have him for a meal for free.
–
For the corrupt Goliaths of today can
Not be defeated by davids of the earthly man;
Even if they use a catapult made in heaven
Not even when given an elastic strength of seven.
–
But don’t give Jongkersii your gun
To take away his breath at your beautiful parlor
On your beautiful floor,
For I care not where he will take to run
–
But mind your white neaty carpet
Of what it could beget
When flood
With his poor blood.
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