We Mourn The Dead Poem by micheal udenyi

Oh, our father is dead and cold
confidants all fled when told
the history of a man not so old
to the problems of others his hands never fold

From the East; ''what is this we hear''?
across the West; ''take heart and bear''
the North all whisper from ear to ear
as the Souths repeated the rounds with fear

Trauma, heartbreaks and tears unaided
all 's hairs shaved to the skin others unbraided
sitting and standing in groups discussing the dreaded
all wept; mourners, consolers and even the grey bearded

But our father's dead and in heaven drinking brandy
while we scrum and struggle, weep and wimp till we get heady