Last 9th had a bad night.
A night not as dark as it were,
But clouds the mind when he comes around.
At speed threw his weight of a hand
Striked my chin
I felt my teeth base hurting.

An assailant with a knife,
Razor sharp, at a snapshot.
Kitchen type as i took glance.
"Mighty ones have fallen to the kitchen alliance".
But I stood my balance.

Came from behind like coward,
He couldn't confront.
'bore a skirt'.
My breathe sighed "death".
But it wasn't mine for the taking.

Once i took note of his tool,
I immediately, his moves understood.
At that moment I saw in a flash
My dreaded end,
"Coming to an end"
like a movie premiered.

In shock for life About to fade
I locked him in tight embrace,
I held fast, knowing if I let loose,
My existence, I will lose.
I would in my pain grim to the grim reaper.

I held to his twists and turns,
My hands interlocked
So I wouldn't get a stab of his ease.
Till we fell and rolled.
On top of me he weighed,
Heavyweight to my slender.

Cold the ground,
Warm my body,
My heart, Usain Bolt.
4 beat a second,
raced fast like dash,
within I sinked.
Suddenly wet, my skin,
Burning, my fears,
Roasted my tears.
I knew no regard,
I was wild in my struggle.
For in the tussle,
I knew I was fending trouble.

The pain inflicted hurts but a little,
One act drills like a bullet from a pistol.
In all these, eyes were there like "I don't care..."

Oh really? Really?
Is this how it goes?
When you come to Port,
You must hack a cut?



© Wilson Chinekwe
(A poem written in November of 2021 about my first and only visit to Port Harcourt, Rivers State, Nigeria on October of the same said year and the sad event that greeted me by the hands of a relatively close person to me)