Finger

Pound for pound
it hits my frame

regrets
choke my memory

could have been a dream
but it wasn't

palms cupping my brows
violently

head pushed back
against the concrete

for her it was the floor
for you the lamppost

we struggled
together

I broke those fingers
fought it out

we thrashed
you did , she did , I did

light was relative
for sight was stolen

the hands closed
upon my eyes - your eyes

reaching out I could feel
sinewy arms , I thumped , it groaned

headlock

for fear of being heard, it /she/ he
never spoke

I stopped moving for fear
of a broken neck

headlock
I remembered my voice

and just as I did
a finger went down my throat

I convulsed, you gagged
I could hear you from miles away

noisy neighbours
we were christened

our outrage muffled
this government machinery

will have us labelled
as noise makers

we the victims
would not be allowed to scream

our fellow citizens
think us noise makers

and when we should be fighting
we give up

for no-one wants
a finger in the throat

and when (your motherland, fatherland)
thinks we quietened enough

it leaves us
moving on to the next victim

knowing for sure
the citizenry backs them

knowing for certain
no one loves a sore throat

encore

Thus grows the culture of silence
And so do all revolutions die

-Koranteng Joshua Yaw