What a Day

Tourist touring the country
Were pouring into my pantry
Looking good and eating good
Food from the belly of my hood
In Dc

This reminded me of good old days
When Joe and I would stroll
On the street
For some good Fufu and tofu.

These days I can’t stroll for fufu
Especially As Joe is gone
And gone for too long.

Joe said he was going
To come back to Ghana
With honors of a doctor

Hmm what a day
What a day?
Today’s date is  9/11
And tonight at nine
Joe is dropping to my
Pub In DC

The light-skinned girls are still
Strolling my Pub, still
Eating and drinking
without
Thinking about anything.
GH is a free place to
Hang out.

Joe is going to see these girls in short
Skirts with no shirt.
With braziers of different color
Embracing some good
Looking boobs.

Joe is coming home
After a long roam
In the West. Fighting
The cold
Weather, finding
The goal
Or may be
The gold.

Joe is going to like these girls.
He said in the good old days
That there is nothing as cool
As the boobs of girls
In our hood.

What a day, what a day
And it was weekday.

That day I was holding
And folding
The bed sheets.
Those best sheets

Joe would
Be using to wrap
Or cover him self
When the world is asleep.

Joe likes those aspects
Of life,
He hates to keep
A wife

A phone call
Came through.
And the message was:
Joe died in the terrorist
Attack on United States.

What a day, what a day
Joe would never see
The tourist pouring
Down wine in my Pub in DC.

What a day what a day?