on earth, graduate with honours
in love degree, raise my children
with chorus derived from poetry sessions
brewing stimulus prophesies.
By the day I am dead,
do I leave behind floor and the roof,
life covers, funeral covers, provident funds,
hectars of land with green pastures
or ducks for curry even livestock.
Do I let my successors be the laughing stock, servant till
heaven.
Harbingers of sour truth
may be mistook for hanky-panky
rebellions but the sun rise never
stopping to paint chameleons.
My departure must always remind
you a prayer for wealthiness within.
95