Nights dont call my dark
Black can't name me wack
Charcoal is my carbon copy
I am a man of sturdy
Son of the old
Granny aged thickly with coal
Source of wealth than crude
My solace lies in the wood
I am dark grey
No matter ticks the clock says
Smokes garnishes my flesh
Black breeze makes me fresh
Dancing flames around cook house
Wingless children sucks aroma like louse
Reddish porridge on the alter of charcoal
Happiness now and beyond control
When you see me in town
Don't say I am a clown
Black made me brown
Now, Age has grown
On the bed of memories
I smile with white tears
Granny's words still glitters
"Charcoal is black not bitter"
Do good;
Charcoal dies with impact
Still nothing can counter
When burnt, No equal barter
I'm from charcoal
Son of the old
I am dark grey
My solace lies in the wood.
Great article