Celibacy
I see her, glowing
Amongst the church-goers for
She’s too beautiful in her Sunday’s dress
That she became the fixation
Of my brown eyes
She sings, with harmony, the psalms of praises
To me she confesses her sin
But I cannot set her free, from judgment
Yet surely, I can make her happy
Till the last days end
Perhaps I should….
Let her know of my own inequity
Copyright © Ernesto P. Santiago | Year Posted 2007
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