Clearly written in capital letters,
With weary hands and tired feet,
I watched you struggle for breath,
Moving, almost crawling, towards the board,
While others raced ahead without a care,
Your pace slow, like a snail’s,
You collapsed onto the floor.
The Handwriting
You reached out with your last strength,
A belch escaping as your hands shook,
Grasping for the emptiness before you.
The Handwriting
In a world full of busy men,
And women chasing after money,
You were trampled upon,
Forgotten by those too busy to care,
No one took notice,
Everyone just working away,
No one bothering to look up.
The Handwriting
Faintly etched in capital letters,
You wrote with all your remaining strength,
As I rushed to your aid, stumbling,
Encountering countless obstacles,
Bumping into people along the way.
Breathlessly, I ran, desperate to help,
But as I arrived, the pen slipped from your grasp,
I was too late,
And as I read your final plea,
Tears streamed down my face.
You had written, “HELP!”
(c) Ifedolapo Ogunniyi
2024
Ifedolapo Ogunniyi 