Pictured, Ernest reads a poem he’d written two weeks previously; this is it:
I was born like this
I was born in the midst of a civilization
one meant for peace, not destruction
more like addition, instead of elimination
felt like relegation, instead of promotion
Freedom of speech, not of any religion
It is depreciation, rather than appreciation
black or white, lets work together on the solution
I was born to succeed, not to face defeat
I was born to rise up, not to fall on my feet
All emotions I carried I had to go and spare
Every time we linked up, it super
Eleven years of my life, I couldn’t eat
My whole life I’ve been running, I can’t sit
I have always been branded as an outcast
Every time I came first, they put me last
I’m shooting for success with a blast
Everything in my life, never slow but fast
I had to sufficiently eat food mixed with dust
When I thought I won, I wanted breakfast
I was born in darkness, far away from the light
My wellbeing was shameless even though it was bright
Who’s to blame for my mistakes when I don’t know what’s at stake
I was born to die and relive, because I am not here to deceive
…
Everything in my life seems unfair
I’m still lost confused, in despair
Who was to be born and be a slave? One that even democracy can save
I fight with everything, but fight harder
I plant now and I will surely reap later
Times are tough not knowing enough
I can’t tell the difference between hate and love
Sick with a sickness and the doctors don’t care
Death is at the doorsteps better beware
In hard times I thrive from a little positivity
Just showing up big is the negativity
I am waiting and unsure for my last days
Like a grim reaper of souls ready to prey
I will say that my life was never a waste
even though success I never got to taste
My life is one to copy and paste
The End