THE PRODIGAL DAUGHTER
How will I tell mama the city changed me?
How will I face my father after the disgrace I caused?
How will my village congregants judge me?
To whom shall I confess my sins?
Am tired of living a life not Mine
I live in guilt haunted by my newself
I live in oblivion,no longer at ease
I wish to spill my filthy confessions
I want to tell them my new name is Delilah
Boys and men ,all of them I have trapped
I want to tell them am Jezebel’s replica
And that in my womb I have made a morgue
And that the fetuses I aborted torment my Life
My life is a mess,I confess in an inglorious defeat
And if I lived in the Bible times,
I would be the accursed,an anathema
I live in self denial,too selfish to love myself
But how will I confess that am changed?
Will they buy it or pour endless verdict?
Perhaps I should confess to the Son of Man
Perhaps like the prodigal son,He will give me another Chance
About The Author
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