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On The Day Of My Demise

Rating: 5.0
On the day of my demise
Do not merry in front of my dying hut
Proclaiming my lost name on a repeated time
Thinking with a mere beating
of the drum you can raise a lost soul
Neither come in mass with pride and prejudice
soaked in streams of tears to increase my countless woes
Do not break the bank for the man who's fast asleep
And if it will be found worthy in your glaring thought;
Let your will be on how to fend for my dying tribe
The waste of my being; you should be quick to expatraite
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Wednesday, September 2, 2020
Topic(s) of this poem: ode
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COMMENTS
Dr Antony Theodore 12 October 2020
For I am not worthy of the white man's reform; keeping the remains of me in their morgue until my wisdom decay Tell the living to mourn only themselves for its my debt I've been called to pay Do not appease to the gods any of my genuine fowl great ideas and views. a fine poem. tony
1 0 Reply
Mark Hero 10 September 2020
Do not feast on leftovers of hard minerals exploiting my offsprings to penury. what a classic poem.
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