Like chickens, we are dying
Like a whale that is drying
Helpless we are left
It was him her and he
Now it is you.
On Sunday, like a warrior approaching
From a successful battle,
Majestically you moved and waved at us
While showing a super shining smile.
With all this, who would have known
That death was awaiting you with its open arms
To snatch you away from us?
No sickness, no stress – just like that, you went.
On that day, expensive vehicles showed up
Respectable people approached.
Offering their rands, dollars, euros and kwachas.
But none of these brought you back to life.
When you were being put in that wooden container
It all seemed like a joke
And you being laid to rest
In the unsatisfied belly of the earth
Made the world realise
That our caring, considering and comforting gentleman
Was gone for good.
(dedicated to late OSMAN KAOLOKA…RIP)