Death; people fear you,

Some avoid you,

They hide from you,

They tremble any time you pounce,

Death; you make us cry,

You rob us our dear ones before giving a heads up.

Can I make a deal with you, death!

That before I die, I’ll need to have a mother in law,

I’ll need to have two kids.

I’ll need to assist them with their homework,

I’ll need to drop them, at their school gate every day.

Is that much to ask, before I die?

Wait, can I have like seventy more years to live?

To be with my family and take them round the world,

Will you be patient with me, to see my kids marry?

I will be glad if I held my grandchildren!

Mentored them and probably danced with them.

Was I even supposed to be diplomatic with you?

Do you even deserve my courtesy?

Not that you ever apply it anyway, in your dispensation.

I told the right things to the wrong being.

You and I should not have had this conversation.

Let’s meet when my God authorises,

Not earlier, not soon.

That’s a deal. Deal!!

Thank you.

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