I didn’t mind
Dragging a leaf
From Bamako
To Timbuktu
There was no kerfuffle
When forced to hustle
As sand-storms,
& hot-winds blew.
I’ve marched into battle,
Fightin’ with termites,
Saving my family
& friends.
Workin’ all night,
Lung-less & Ear-less,
Until my
Little life ends.
Then when I die,
Good-bye & by,
Stiff as a twig,
Or a rock.
Ignored by my tribe,
Givin’ off vibes,
’til finally
We take my death-walk.
I’m left to rot,
Decay, & what-not,
Piled on a pile
Of remains.
Decompositioned,
In different positions,
Never to march out
Again.
I didn’t mind
Draggin’ my load
Through valleys,
& mountains & sand.
My only regret,
Minor, and yet —
I wish I’d played
In a band.
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