Mtf67ruyuyuyuyuyuyuyuyuyuyuyuyuyuyjffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff
yyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy7rrrrrrrrrrrr7rrrrrrrrrrrr
Pressing one key then another
He clearly knew not what he wanted
The night was bleak
In his lonesome he remembered
He was paying for his crimes
He had been a lifelong player
He had broken fragile hearts
He had devoured their purity
He had crashed their spirits
He had thought himself a conqueror
The game had reached dead end

There was no sound of a fan cheering
There was no one to give him a hearing
He wanted to settle down
No woman wanted him
He looked everywhere
In the villages,
In the clubs,
In chat rooms.
They were all gone
His only companions
His keyboard and mouse
He was too much of a man
He allowed no tear to run
All he could do
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As he paid for his crimes.

© Christine njeri