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wish i have my father as model

i wish i see his life style as a mirror

i grew up in a cave

inside a room that my mind was bigger

observing my little god attend to issues

most times not satisfy with his conclusions

i watch him n mum put on a show

I’ll never like to watch again

I’ve seen him put on a show in a brothel

then i wondered the habitation of the wisdom

i question the very wisdom that bring me forth

i wonder if wisdom has expiring date

i guessed my fathers wisdom has left him

but who barbed his hair like Samson

who could be the Delilah that brought this ruin

a preacher once counsel ;

is not better for him to kiss the world bye

a statement i found difficult to forget

everyday in the prayer room

seeking for a remedy to my calamity

i starved my eyes in supplication

for God to restore his hair

he was a general in his youth

he was a strength to reckon

he was an epitome of strength n hardwork

our fountain of wisdom

till now we still reap from his glory

but this glory is fast fading

unlike many women

i have heard my mum praying;

none of my son will be like my boo

like a knife to my chest but no better truth than her prayer

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2 Comments

  1. Interesting stuff; you might find my poem of the day interesting

  2. Interesting poem; perhaps you might find my poem of the day interesting…at edwinfoster.wordpress.com


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