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A Heroes Burial At A Tiny Village
From the podium,
All this seems like a delirium
The theme in them
The location holy to them
If you don’t understand the lingo,
Then don’t go.
Stay. Listen,
They saying his works is his den;
Not the tomb he lays
A native son,
Has go to the Sun
But his tempo;
Still ‘hapo’
The funeral, a parade;
All chanting he wont fade
In their hymns
And rhymes
All cheers
From the front to the rear.
poem
by
John Wake
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