By Olabode Oyawale (@bodewites)
You make coffin for the rich and poor,
A home better than abroad,
The rest room after sweet labour
The bed you don't share with your spouse
Sweet lonely refreshments in a sacred house
You sleep in your comfort,
And build a castle for a later journey,
You iron the edge of the wood,
To make a home for the body after death
It's beautiful, the coffin is a good profession
You make coffin for merry,
You pray they have someone to bury,
But when death refuses to kill for the grave
Where will your coffin purchase to stay?
How and where will your coffin sleep?
How many years will it take for you to build
A castle of coffin with all worldly splendor?
So that we can both enjoy the home you built,
Majestically for six feets, moths and thermites,
With the colours of fear as the shining paint.
But when the coffin maker dies,
Who then will make his own coffin?
Procession and rites for this body?
For the coffin maker builds for people
So that he can have a home built for him.