HE LEFT HIS PORCH.

HE LEFT HIS PORCH.
I used to look and find him in his porch,
but now, l look and he is far from there.
Where has he gone? They say that he has died.
What does that mean? For me that's quite obscure.

Is he alike with that small lamb he had
and played with when they were both young and cute?
The lamb became a ram, and then he slew
and ate it with his friends, no sense of guilt.

Or is he like a bird the hunters shoot
for no good reason but to have a change.
They kill that bird for fun, or showing skill
and not because they bear it any grudge.

What are you, life and death? Why do we live?
Aren't these two questions worth thinking about,
or just like that poor lamb and little bird,
we live till death arrives and takes us out?
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
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