To the emissary of death

although a man does not know when
nor can time be kind enough to snitch
death is siamese with birth and tears
I won’t win even if I try to fight the air
just as my grandfather lost before he
could see his height and smile on me
even though it brought despair to us all
you ended cousin Kunle’s sickle pain, but
I’d rather you stay far than nearer to me
let me make profits from this stock market called life.

Tomide Abdul