Funeral Poem by Babajide Aina

Who do you know
even to be at the funeral?
where the breath has separated the mortal garment.
in which the giant is on the floor
Waiting for the hope of the last room,
where only the living prepare


The worst enemy may be the passer-bye
The poor neglect could be the architect
Ungreeted neighbor the announcer
Only the living determine the cemetery
Where riches and talents are forgotten
who do you touch before going to the other side?
Can we pray for the death?
Only your work determines FAREWELL.