You loved and cared,
Cooked and fed,
Never asking for a coin but for the sake of love...
The poet in me writes your praises,
Yet, the Mathematics in me can't even quantify your immense love for us.
Rest well Mami Margaret,
Tell grand mum I am OK but in the midst of another Pure Mathematics survival challenge.
Tell dad we missed him
and that I wish he was here to disprove my countless concepts in physics,
Tell him I still write poems and listen to the BBC,
Tell him I still look forward to have his twin grandsons despite countless failing proposals.
Tell grand-pa I didn't do political science nor joined politics
But from what I see, he for told our happenings-now.
Tell our forefathers, that we have desecrated the shrines, sold out sacred traditional works of arts for greed and money.
Tell them of the arm conflict and how we've soiled the land with blood,
and divided among ourselves our yet to be homeland.
Farewell Mami Mar!
The poet in me pays you tribute,
As the Mathematics in me confirms your convergence in The Lord,
You're now in the abodes of the Father,
À Dieu Mami Margaret
Until we meet again.
Copyright © Richard Nah | Year Posted 2020
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