SHABAN

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 There is a new angel flying by,

Shaban now transcending to a heavenly place in the sky.


I got to know you in Rowena Garden,
Jack the lad—“I beg your pardon.”


In you would come selling things to buy,
Bags of everything and perfume to try.


You were good friends with Gomaa and Rowena,
Maybe you have already seen her.


Many days in the sun, Luxor Temple here we come,
Edfu town here we come.


On the minibus, it’s alright for some,
Shaban, you have no car—so not a job well done.


A smile on your face as we go,
Off to your grandma’s house for food and the show.


Often you would wear your West Ham football shirt,
Off to the King’s Head pub so you can flirt.


Ahmed took me to your grave,
So I could place some flowers—I was being very brave.


A man came running out to me,
He said, “Wrong grave—surely this cannot be.”


So I go back to the cemetery once more,
More flowers to buy, I sneaked in through the back door.


Ahmed could not get things right if he tried,
As I placed the flowers down slowly, I sadly cried.


The lovely man with the golden tooth,
Middle-aged you—spectacular in your youth.


More stories to come very soon,
Shaban will add the next memory from his heavenly room.


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