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Testing Printable Version PRINTABLE VERSION
by Not Available, Uganda Feb 16, 2006
Culture , Human Rights   Poetry

  

I passed the keys to my man.
He passed the kids to me again.
I passed them off to the day-care staff; that
I passed by on my way to work.
I passed the dollar to the driver;
And passed three seats to find one empty.
I passed the time in contemplation
Of the things ahead in my daily rotation.
I passed the booth, and waved ‘Hello.’
I passed my badge and
Passed through the doors.
I passed the directors and kept my eyes low; after
I passed ten years there I knew what to do.
I passed the supervisor, and headed to my seat
With the passing bottles ready to be filled.
I passed the day watching rituals repeat.
Then I passed my time card to the supervisor of these things.
I passed the vending machines and neglected to pay;
So I passed by the supervisor once again.
I passed him as he clutched his chest.
He passed me quick, and stumbled in duress.
I failed to recall what I’d grown to know;
For he passed away there at my feet-
When the Police passed by there and saw me
As I passed the time in a frantic panic,
And the supervisor passed away with gesticular antics.
So I pass my time now in a room full of crimes;
Because I passed a White man while he was dying;
Because I failed to remember and stood there watching;
Because I failed to respond correctly in my time of testing.





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Comments


Fantastic
Odimegwu Onwumere | May 19th, 2006
the poem nice, but would have had a nice tittle if the author had tittled it "I Passed". That tells the whole team.



Hann Yew | Aug 2nd, 2006
Clever poem with very powerful tempo.

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