When My Memoir Will Be Done Poem by kelvin nwanji

Dirty clouds hover above the sky,
Hurricanes sweep through the city,
Fear grips the men, bleeds them dry,
Conflicting emotions, anger or pity?

Immutable, tears is powerless,
Pleasure now is considered redundant.
Vanity upon vanity, this occasion is endless,
Death's venom in life is abundant.

As the cock crows at dawn,
Destitute orphans hunt for a loaf or crumbs.
When silence screams out at night,
A widow's barrenness becomes her fright.

Bury me not while I breathe,
Seek me not when I will be gone,
Someday, my soul will be freed,
Then, my memoir will be done.