Mistaken Identity

By Frank Olunga Khange 4 months ago

The crowd increasing the pace

Tactical he dodges through the space

The tarmac is hot with the race

The crowd thirsty for blood

Thief thief as they advance 

His legs his only chance


Coincidence and fate were active

Humanity replaced with animality

His clothes sold him to the mob

They claim he had rob

He fall on his back

Thief thief the crowd bark

The mob was angry for his meat

Innocent soul didn't retreat


Men of muscles women of strength

His cry was like a flea fart

The mob was after his heart

Swimming in his own blood

The blood that flood

Who was not guilty for the penalty


With satisfaction he was dead

The mob mourn joyfully

The cloud turn dark he was late

Petrol poured on his body set a blaze

As people record to update their status

Without blinking they gaze

Mistaken identity

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Frank Olunga Khange
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