I left my house,
August 20, 1955,
Visiting my relatives,
Hanging out with my cousins,
Making jokes,
Playing pranks,
“Bye Babe” was a big mistake.
Banging on the door,
Right them I knew it,
With a pistol to my head,
I knew it was the end,
I ended up lying here,
With no breath in my chest,
I’m still alive,
I say,
But a fisherman found me,
Lying dead.
I wrote this poem about Emmet Till he was a famous African American. I wrote this at school about how he died. Hope you enjoy. well not the events but the poem and the structure!
Comments
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Interesting.. I've never heard of Emmet Till. Reading this poem I think, "What a sad story." But yeah, the poem and the structure were pretty good.
The last stanza was the best...!
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wow that is awesome!
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