When you get to the other place,
Make sure one day you recall me.
God, do grant you His thankless grace,
For ghastly you left, you’ll still be.

My thought keeps a picture of you,
Which to no one can I describe,
God, don’t do me as you could do,
Wipe out every curse from my tribe.

The other place which you now face,
Keeps me brooding, “How could that realm be?”
Then, how luckless the human race,
And that no one’s free, even me.

© Olawale Famodun

Excerpt from the book “Poems Of Redemption”

http://www.ctupublishinggroup.com/olawale-famodun.html
• Also Available on Amazon.com by Title

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