PETER EKPE

ANALOGY

At the break of day
Spotting my skin covered in a rash
Grisly, I preyed on mosquitoes
In every nook and cranny
Perching on the wall
On my dingy curtains
Some flying, making rasping noise
I swore with such hate
These heinous visitors are doomed
In my haughty abode
So in a nifty style, I raid
Not with the use of pesticides
God damn any Pesticides
It was my bare hands clapping, hunting and killing those sinners
Now I have their blood in my hands
And my blood in my hands.

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