To The Departed Poem by Reginald Ruwende

We summoned our all,
Dared and transcended the dreaded divide
Upon the tide, whereupon we leered upon
Scary scarecrows we trampled and treaded upon

Did you have a choice?
For when you winced and writhed,
Flirted with the overtly pungent grim
All played deaf prior to slithering away

Did they have a choice?
When they bewailed exiguous emoluments,
Mumbled over measly meagre perks
The neighs never quite nailed it in

Did they too have a choice?
Deep-rooted in the rot they set and settled in,
Amid the binge, never feeling the pinch
Wherefore would they flinch an inch?

Dear departed?
Howbeit they sabre-rattled and rattled thee?
Bet it makes much sense,
Not to listen but rather silence the dissenting voice

Reposed in some mezzanine somewhere beyond the peeping clouds,
Revel in soothing cushion of ever unfailing palms
They had their heroes,
We have our own