By: Llaka Tshesane

I hate the world for what it has done to you
The tiny pieces of lungs the cigars has stolen from you
The alcohol that fed on you and the stroke that snatched your life too
I hate the loss mama goes through
The sight of her puffy red eyes every morning
And sounds of fought cries every night
Although it is good that you rest in peace
It is far from okay to live in your absence
To wake up to no sweet on my nightstand
Nor money under my pillow
If heavens allowed letters, you would have been the most receiver
I would have liked to say goodbye
Now that I know you cannot return to me.