There was once a man
Who heard his own obit,
The experience was so profound
It made him think a bit.
His is a popular name
And it is sure to ring a bell
But you might see it differently
If it rings no bell.
Now how is it possible
For such a thing to happen?
Either he was not really dead
Or someone was mistaken.
Well, it so happened
That his brother had died,
Somehow their names got mixed-up
And a wrong name was applied.
One had invented dynamite
To the displeasure of many
And mistakenly this was the one
That heard his obituary.
What if I were to tell you
His surname is already given,
Can you tell me where in the poem
This man’s name is written?
I will give you another clue
But before I do that
Let me share with you my friend
Just one other fact.
Hearing his own obituary
He was extremely disturbed,
Nothing good was said about him
And in this many concurred.
Dynamite was dangerous
And could take many a life,
Why would anyone in his right mind
Create such a device?
Alfred decided there and then
To be seen in better light
And willed to a very good cause
His wealth from dynamite.
He created five awards
Which he established by a will
And even up to our present time
Those prizes are awarded still.
He had had much wealth
Accumulated from dynamite
And today innovator Alfred is held
In much better light.
Mistakenly hearing his obit
Really turned around his life
When in the eyes of his contemporaries
He had only created strife.
Dynamite was at first seen
As an instrument of strife
But his peace prize among the five
Must surely preserve life.
Stewart Russell © January 22, 2024
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