Yabor Poem by Koffi B Sossou

The day Yabor ceased to be,
She was slim, slightly tall—
A grace of calm and beauty.
She stood among us that Saturday,
Then retreated, chased by a rising unease.

The company offered medicine and a pittance,
Buying hope for a swift recovery.
No one knew they were witnessing a final act;
A last appearance before the curtain fell.

​Monday came, and Yabor was a ghost.
The desk was empty; she had ceased to be.
The gates will swing for her no more.

When the silence of her death was broken,
My soul grew heavy with a bitter sorrow.
​But the gears of the company did not grind to a halt.

Some turned their backs,
Choosing the ledger over the liturgy.
They skipped her burial,
Unwilling to trade a day of profit for a day of mourning.
Their indifference cut deeper than the loss.

​She ceased to be.
Confined to a coffin
With her dreams.
Consigned to the earth.
She ceased to be—
Forever.