It was the gunshot of destiny,

and I had to runaway from this verbal firing squad,

where I experienced the black hiss

of gunpowder

and the black kiss of masturbating bullets

It was my integrity, moaning in

this oral deathrow,

sitting on the electric chair

of criticism,

I had to escape from this sobibor

and run free

to the land of acceptance.

                         By Kakraba Afful