When You Die Poem by Odelana Rapheal

Besides my house lies a cemetery,
Not a day passes without a grave being dug.
The wailing of the bereaved sounds so eerie,
Telling a tale of vanity, life's final shrug.

A thought crosses my mind: does the dead,
Leave behind a good or a bad tale?
The lifeless body, to rest it's led,
While prayers rise, yet both hearts are frail.

In my cozy bed at night, I hear,
The voices of spirits, homeless and lost.
Even by day, their cries are clear,
Their search for peace, no matter the cost.

Do good, oh living, for one day you'll roam,
I won't be there to hear your plea.
No wailing will save you, bring you home,
Only the tale of how you lived, truly.

© Odelana Raphael Oluwaseunfunmi
2024.