Funeral Turned Fun Era Poem by Tosin Abegunde

[I]

In solitude on the gallery thinking
Saw i eyes crowded on course,
Glittering, wet and sickening
Like a mat-djnn on a cause
Another star must have fallen
Thus the deletion of a lineage
Leaving minds shaken
For age long dreams truncate.

Reason remains puzzling
As intellects struggle to unravel,
What fastens on minds dangling
Revealled by the test from navel.

When the meal pot is destroyed
Who will cater for the beloved?

[II]

The constellation of consanguinity
Makes for a show of suspense,
Words in black n white for dignity
Projects a purpose for credence
Who bids for the lion share
Suffers the most upheaval
Brewing from the inner stare
Of whose intent buries survival.

The progenitor laments to clarify
Factors interesting satisfaction,
Plunging grouses meant to satisfy
Making a warfare of distraction.

When the meal pot is destroyed
Who will cater for the beloved?

[III]

Assembly of vagabond minstrels
Commanded for consumerism,
On the vantage of laurels
Transcending manner of wastism
Who cares what become of it?
A regime mannered for the loafers
To woo the strive he in heat
Regaling the incendiary brokers.

Following the comic intended
The inscriptions negates thought
Mass violence erupted
On a decisions that greed brought.

When the meal pot is destroyed
Who will cater for the beloved?