Death March, a poem by Andrea Myinga at
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Death March

Death March

written by: Andrea Myinga



There is no ‘we’ in ‘I’
Moments have named it well
It’s a spell of life must go on

The journey of the ‘we’ has an end
Top of a grave is the limit
Down the earth rest the ‘I’

Cries ever unearth a casket
They move around ears
Dying with travelling wind

If there’s pain of death
Wails of ‘I’ must go unanswered
None understands tongue of the dead

If there’s joy and happiness
The ‘I’ is somewhere as pitying
For the others are not in-party
They are in tears, tearing apart
The parts spreading nowhere
In their pockets destined to last.

Andrea Myinga

Andrea Myinga

Andrea Myinga writes from Tanzania. His poems have been published by The Writers Space Africa, Kalahari Review, Literary Yard, Allpoetry, Hello Poetry, Spillwords Press, Power Poetry, Ibua Journal and The Griots of Ubuntu, an anthology. Professionally holds a Bachelor’s degree in Philosophy and a Diploma in Religious Studies from the Spiritan Missionary Seminary, Arusha-Tanzania, an affiliate to the Catholic University of Eastern Africa (CUEA) Nairobi-Kenya.
Andrea Myinga

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