Hark, no angels sang
November 21st, 2008It was on a cold Wednesday
When Vince was laid to rest
Far from Jamaica
And even farther still from Africa
For all he wanted was one last wish
But instead his ashes were laid
To rest in a short silver dish
He dreamt all his life
That he would be buried
In a family plot in Jamaica
But alas that was not to be
For on a cold winter day
He was turned to ashes
And even in death
Was not granted his one last wish
For I like he
And many like we
All we really wanted
As our last wish
Was to be shipped back home
And not end up in any silver dish
And alas
There will be no rest for Vince
While his ashes lay upon a silver dish
And if I should die before that day
I pray by body be wrapped up and shipped
Back to my homeland
Far away from any silver dish
imadon @ 2008