About everything you could ever want to tale
Of a lost past; days that never went so well
About dreary paths that made me so pale
Of the vast travels, leave nothing out I beg
About the faces: places and facets of the trail
We’ve journeyed near and far; ever on tread.
Stories with missing bits, not so truly whole,
Versions that bear a truth; revised but curated
Each will tell some: none will sing out the chords,
Moulded in tears and wrought from living on the trail
None would narrate as someone who lived in the tale.
So my friends, for the time and company, Asante.
And when you’ll get the voice to speak up,
Let your words bear the pain we endured:
The sacrifices, and the dreams we lost;
The blighted hopes, unrequited toils,
Unanswered doors and letters unsent,
Plights of the sojourners we’d become.
Give out something real about me,
And don’t wrap my flaws in lollies.
Tell of a being that trod the earth,
And fervently sought after the meaning
In a beaten life drowned in unsteady turns.
That day, when you’ll tell.