we never exchanged gunshots
of words but they spent all their
fortunate days murdering my personality,
releasing boxes and boxes and boxes of fresh venom
from their harbour of thought and hull of despicability
they succeeded in their cobric deeds

with malignant laughter, they were invincible
loose canons that blasted me away,
burglars of privacy, they stole my inner peace

what can I say? I was under siege
bruised and battered by the bat of mockery,
what more is there to say? I was damage
by those social savages,
my very being killed like a guilty one
by the guillotines of laughter

Everyday I looked to the sky, wondering
why these gloomy days would end.
                                                        By Kakraba Afful