On The Day Of My Demise Poem by Emmanuel Joseph Olumakiss

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
My spirit and soul you shouldn't bother to trace to
the underworld
The reserve of my wealth the poor you should give
to keep until their dying days
All of these you should do when i embark on this long lasting trip
On the day of my demise do not come to feast on leftovers of hard minerals thereby exploiting my offsprings to penury
let my being be buried underground
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
Neither roast my yams for the disciples of doom.