A man died a day ago
people call him great
as he lived till yesterday
he was at default.
The flaws in life
grow and magnify while alive
the defects minimise
look nothing after death
The man dubbed as wayward
while he was living
turns wise and saintly
after his last breath.
The good that we do
lives after the mortals
the bad that we commit
is interred with the bones.
The memory is so short
as years pass on
fast
the dead man becomes history
and his deeds a story.
That be the way everywhere
a saint lives forever
a bad man dies a death
and remembered for never.
Meenas Poems 