In the ninth month of the year.
It was but a day before a score.
It was after the early morning due.
I needed to be elegant.
For her special day of holy matrimony.
I got the black polish.
I paid for it and walked out.
Alas I slipped and fell.
The radius of the forearm caput.
So devastating and sad.
I moaned and shouted for help.
And help came.
My next stop was the house of the medicine man.
I was with a contingent led by Adedzewa.
He dressed me and sent me off.
I came to my abode with a stiff left arm.
It was in a cast.
Supported with a sling.
It is the left arm and not the left leg.
So I am not Long John Silver.
It broke and his was a complete loss.
Mine will heal with time.
But for him it was until his death.
He lost it in a battle under Hawke.
I only slipped and fell for elegance.
He used crutches I never did.
He had a parrot to play with.
I don’t even have a pet at home.
Oh’ he is a fictional character.
I am a real homo sapien.
Indeed I am not Long John Silver.