When the swimmer finally took a flight
He was a good man, they all said in their tributes with tears in their eyes.
Vultures with violins
at his funeral.
Blindfolding many with rhythmic sympathy
like they were not making their hearts merry
for the long awaited feast
finally, they were going to have.
Joshua why sleep? They repeatedly sang.
Joshua our shrimp, they continuously reemphasized.
Sympathy, the best of their two-faced culteries
they didn't mind trading
for this well-savoured shrimp.
Life would have been better if
he stuck to making friends with
fins rather than feathers.