Adieu Honor Poem by Stephen Olufemi Omolara

Now that Mr Honor is dead
His sad story I to tell:
He lived a life of near solitude,
His tent, only a few visited
He was born an only son;
Early in life quickly orphaned
Since then no one, him willing to take in
At people's threshold briefly he be allowed
To depart with stale breads sour to taste.
In tatter clothes walked he the streets
Hoping one day there be one to take him in.
With times passage, his shame this clothes no longer cover.
Into the forest where no one to scorn him,
Honor stay till doomsday came.
With time nature its duties performed.
With nature, honor gradually blended.
Therefore, honor has no headstone.
Adieu Honor!