FOR MY LATE UNCLE: KWABENA BOATENG

You lie on the roaster tonight

Flanked by many cooks under a beautiful light

You lie being garnished with tears

Of those who will never want to be you

For they know, they will never eat you

Nor sit for anyone to eat you

You are the special food of the earth

Tomorrow, you’ll be pushed into his mouth

The mouth with an insatiable belly

A belly hot enough to melt irons

A belly which can never go a day

Without eating beautiful and handsome meals

Too bad you’ve turned into its meal

Sooner than we expected

I cannot say the earth is solely to blame

I blame me, I blame you

I blame the ones who sat and watched

Your untimely calling

I blame the drinks which burn yet entice

I blame the thirst which yearns

Despite the known danger

Go in peace not in pieces

I know not what it is you’ll face

If there are canes you’ll have to brace

I hope it doesn’t hurt more than the drinks

If there is a fire bedroom, I hope you

Feel the fire as your stomach felt the burns

So you’ll be comfortable and cheerful

If pleading would serve you any good

I plead with the judges, to have mercy

On your poor soul, as the wind of pain

You encountered on earth is too much a punishment

If you are forgiven, I hope you stay far off the bars of hell

And draw closer to the water of life for the soul

Go in peace beautiful soul placed in a stubborn man,

You’ll dearly be missed until we meet.

By amoafowaa