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After life

After life, please find attached the invoices
Of inventories and crying laughing voices
On the Sands of time, made of choices.

Being persistent, every debts were paid
Boys are men so the ladies sang and said
While the ants turn birds, thus got made.

For history don’t care the number of trials
Flowers don’t fly but are seen in the skies
Floating not as a birds but in tears

Nor as Eagle or Hawks with a Raven eyes
But from a Plantation of low and highs…
Boldly colorful, that even when dry never dies.

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