The Mournful Procession Poem by Kojo Owusu

The hearse comes to a creaking shrieking halt
Echoing the cries of brambles crushed by solemn feet
The procession arrayed in black attires mournfully encircles the grave
And a requiem mass chanted
After the battered body was lowered into the abyss

The adjoining graves resounded the dirge in a welcoming gesture
The birds chirruping up above deepened the mounful tune
And the procession homeward turned

The women ululated
Of a fallen hero irreplaceable
A messianic figure
There is doom there is doom

A heroic figure no doubt
One of the greatest and outstanding personalities
Of our time
The men sung in unison
A revolutionary a visionary
Who deserves to be apotheosized

But it was whispered that
He was no more than an ordinary man born in poor circumstances
Poverty ennobled him
And squalor enboldened him
It was only fortune that smiled on him
To rise above his subhuman existence