when the sun goes down.

Don't cry,

Let the memory linger on,

As hours turn to days and years.

Tell the world a poet I was,

Of an ordinary mind;

Tell them my words danced to tunes of birds of the air. 

Tell them I crafted from my dreams,

from my silent screams,

from my unseen tears,

tell them I penned my fears;

Above all, I penned with love and care.

Don't let my red mound grow old,

Adorn it with memorable flowers,

and hymns to sweet heavens,

so my earthly home stays lit.

Don't curse the soil,

To ashes I'm back,

but remember my rhymes 

and let the memory live on.

When the sun goes down,

let them know in my verses I cried,

It was an echo,

That they oft° ignored-

and when it's quizzed who I was,

I was the ordinary mind,

I went when the sun set in the East.

©Bunguswa.