A week of a Saturday Night “Lifer” by M.B. Gama

M.B. Gama | June 5th, 2009 | poetry | No Comments

It’s Monday, the second day of the week
He’ll miss work just because he’s feeling weak
He can barely hold his glass because of the “shakes’
He’ll drink more, just to cure the “headaches”
The fruits of Saturday night…

It’s Tuesday, the third day of the week
She’ll wipe the tears of her cheek
She’s just been beaten almost to death
Because she asked about his health
The fruits of Saturday night…

It’s Wednesday, the fourth day of the week
It’s just too hard for them to speak
They are thirsty and hungry
They are broke and angry
The fruits of Saturday night…

It’s Thursday, the fifth day of the week
You can see the elevation of the cheek
He’s popping cash, hoping to sleep
She’s showing flesh, hoping to sip
The fruits of Saturday night…

It’s Friday, they meet in the pubs
It’s funday, they converge to the clubs
It’s payday, they’ll sleep in the bars
It’s loot day, they’ll spend the night behind bars
The fruits of Saturday night…

It’s Saturday, the second day of the weekend
Its’ funeral day, it’s the day of the end
Today, we’ll harvest and reap the fruits of saturday night
It’s been a long week, tiredness is taking over
Drunk in fast cars, it’s all over

The red, blue and yellow lights…it’s horrible
Chaos, anger and regret…it’s not possible
It was their last year in tertiary, the parents are unconsolable
The tears, blood and pain….it’s unbearable

Lives are lost and destroyed but life goes on…
After all it’s Saturday night.

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