My time is up

I am a youth; my future is supposed to be bright.
My life should be promising, my body should be strong and quick.
My eyesight should be sharp.
I should not be coughing blood,
I shouldn’t be weak and weary.
My body hurts all over, I draw breath I get stabbed,
I drink water, it turns red.
My heart is strong, my spirit is fighting but my time is up.
I can feel the hourglass blubbing.
I can see death waving at me, I am afraid, I feel like refugee being deported.
I am not ready, I still look forward to it, but my time is up.
I have plans for the next years, but my time is up.
I have not lived long enough; I don’t want my life to be short.
I am afraid.
I have been robbed by God; I don’t want to go.
Now I know how king Hezekiah felt when he was told that he was going to die.
I wish the lord could spare me, not for my sake …

I wish I lived longer; I wish I had kissed my daughter enough.
I wish I dated more people,
I wish I had bought a car and house.
I wish I could hold my mother’s hand before I go, I wish I had told my friends I loved them.
MY TIME IS UP.

BY SIPOKAZI MATUTU