My Interment Poem by Tshepo Malekutu

Every time I am trying to walk,
I fall next to a grave.

It's seems and sound like a call far,
above; voices far above.

I only hear dirges,
since i lost my old brother and younger sister.

I dream tiny coffins written my name,
Tiny coffin moving between corridors,

I hear people reading epitaphs,
And i see my mourners.

I see pall bearers! I hear dirges!
It's time to repose.

I am shrouded,
I am covered with winding sheet.

I see wreath upon my pall,
Lend me a tear before my wake.