EPITAPH Poem by Ignatius T. Mabasa
EPITAPH
We silently walk to the cemetery
We, pall-bearers of our own coffins
We used to have a life
And an economy
Running on dollars and sense
Now we are a graveyard
Full of shallow graves.
Mounds of fresh earth
And crooked stick crosses.
Ravens disembowel corpses
Singing a harsh type of dirge
No dignity, no rites, no tears
No pastor, no speech, no soil!
Friday, October 12, 2018
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3/13/2026 11:15:01 AM # 1.0.0
