A Gift For You

Believe me; I've tried so much, I've taken my time to pray in church: That the remains of this battered piece of pierced flesh; Be to you attractive and found fresh. I brought to you a broken pot... Overly trampled—many times cut, Whose leaking muddy waters create mighty currents That flow in different directions—history of long torments... I brought a gift that my rugged hands cannot amend, A part of me that others will not recommend; Because they strolled in with high brows and protruded heels Only to leave this pasture malnourished and ill... Forgive me, princess dear, There's a little wear and tear On the gift that I brought to you —punctured by those that came before you: Bimpe took it into an oven and tried to smoke it; Ronke tried to rid it of oxygen to suffocate it; Helen fried it with many arguments and fights And Sandra wouldn't let it rest at nights. But I managed to rescue this much for you, Full of dark clouds and shadows that may frighten you And frail as it is for want of strength, It's the only gift I can afford—my heart.