When Death Comes Too Soon
by nathi xinwa
dis be the mornin’ of mourning
when de prepacked leedaz in their stations
kum togeda to bleed all de nations
and the ball of burden keeps on rolling.
dis be de damned days of disrepute
when doze deliquents of socializm
dodge insults from dem self-proclaimed (kretins) of liberalizm
while de beancountin’ demokratz take the country’z loot.
damn, here kumz de hour of jujmint
the robe-shaming selflservaz look on squint
and all dem holyhymn whorez of justice
realize dat they no betta dan spit.
now, de kumz de moment of truth
where doze that were no different at birth,
-from dem dat ruled over wit’ a hand ova ‘is eyez,
show their tru value and their worth.
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