The first's a man
A prayerful one
Filling me with contempt and command
With bright darkness, we ended our sojourn.
The second was behind
I can not remember a lot
Other than he was Tanzanian
And not completely as I thought.
The third was sad
Wasted money wasted time wasted smile
"Things like this make us a man"
Words ettled at hope, precise and not, with each try.
The last, a bit like the first
Perhaps he was not?
My uncertainties, painfully, he laid to rest
In consolation, my journey was done.