Do not bury me at Hero’s acre, withal:
Spare me the cacophony of hypocrisy
Spare me the nausea of empty eulogies
Spare me the cesspool of crocodile tears
Spare me the side-lining of my very own
Do not bury me at Heroes’ Acre
To spare me the sham of a heroism bestowed
On the arbitrary whims of a committee
But let my heroism if any
Be written in the hearts of the few or many
Wherein love speaks its name,
Whatever good I’ll have done by God’s grace
Let my passing be a hymn to His glory.
Let this be my epitaph
Do not bury me at Heroes Acre
Where the main and only speaker, alas!
Being neither my choice nor my family’s
Whence my wake a platform for hate speech
And point scoring unrelated to my memory
Do not bury me at Hero’s Acre
But rather as ’twas for Julius Nyerere,
But rather as ’twas for Nelson Mandela,
Bury me in unassuming surroundings
Among my beloved living or dead
There to rest in peace
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