This poem is my attempt at mimicking Elizabeth Acevedo’s poetic style.
sleep, will it ever come?
no? then what is the point of it all?
should it be better to lie down and never get up?
–like the dead?– yes, simply like death.
close your eyes, let the aching pain in your head
fade into nothing.
you will not need pain where you are going.
–heaven?– no, not at all.
if there were a god,
he would let you sleep, and sleep, and sleep.
but you do not get to the gift
of resting your head.
it’s the punishment for your past life,
the life you do not know,
nor will you ever know.
now, just lie down in the dirt and disappear.
Published
Muffin; The Blog 