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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Before I tramp the course of my cause, A family indeed we were, I and Kole But I short of years from the other. Only by words we keep memory of A deceased mother like morning dew Sought for by the gloaming. We knew Only a father whose right hand does The masculine labour and his left hand Undertook the feminine chore And grew us up from tendril to maturity. Nothing moves the heart as do feelings, The impression creates of a moving mountain. But with one mind accept I all that be And live a life devoid of melodrama. Behind laughter abide the trail of tears And in my tears was laughter’s bare face. Work, leisure, sickness, health, joy, sadness Nothing so transporting or so flummoxing As to heave my heart off the balance of life. As an ass, it does not sigh over its burdens And the camel do not complain of thirst Through the drought of the desert. By Fate’s design we lost Kole who had Found natural escapism from life in death Whereof the dead cannot forgo to return. I, left with a father I pampered and cared for Always after his heels and by his lounge And all lips hailed the good son of a father. Time takes precedence to test all values And fate takes no cognizance of kinship. Every cord has been broken by birth. Day by day is the wake of another day And again it would go back to slumber. Harmattan made the land to be bard, It would smile while the sun is out but Only to become moody with drops. Playing, gaming, travelling, interacting, Have excused the drabness of existence. Below the earth is the hue of brown And above the sky is the hue of grey. I have left my father and home into The city to make a fortune and a name For they all have queried a son cannot Always be a honeybunch to a father But must seek to be a sovereign man. Now I traverse through the fleeting land All my goods and affiliates lay aside. Being an heir, I am no heir to fleeting goods. Why throw away the bad grains And then store up the chaff? I will walk through the sands of time until I halt in my course to become sand. A father I commit to the hands of nature And goodwill of kinsmen and friends.
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