Your words were hurting
Provoking and mean
More of torture than loving,
So I thought as a teen.
The rod of admonition you never spared,
Consistent though I was rebellious.
In the raw word I was rared,
Though hard and strenous.
Now shall I forget thy prayers at night,
Or should I seize to remember the song you sang?
It resonates joy and not plight.
I can only reciprocate by acquinting with the right gang.
On me you spent your last kobo,
Was there when my heart seemed frail,
Though I never showed it cos of my ego.
Your encouraging words were around when I seem to fail.
You whisper joy to my ears,
Between the gale you were my anchor.
Your soft smile drowns my fears.
You thought me to axe rancour.
FELICIA AND FESTUS, you are the best parent.
Woke at five and heard the rain sprinkle,
so I crawled back in for a good morning sleeper.
All that stIrred was the fan beside the bed as
I turned it off and curled to stir some heat.
My eyes went close and the world went black,
I went back sleep in hopes of St. Nick.
Not a dream lingers, not even a sound made.
That fat little" son of a monkey's az just
flew over my house again.
I flew from my bed with my shotgun in my hand,
I get you this time my friend and all your precious jewels.
Third round came and I let off a shot, Dang he's
quick as I hit Rudolph in the sack.
He rared and kicked as he shot straight to the sky.
As Santa cried, I get you next year as he
flew out of sight.
Creativity let his mind go vibrant,
this shape,
this letter,
this color,
this emotion,
this scene,
this architecture,
and all this conjecture,
about them,
and about all of them,
one day something snapped,
he had his income stopped,
he wanted but could not,
he rared but empty pockets,
were bared,
he fought hard for days,
still no hope of rays,
penury and starvation,
had dried all juices,
whether they were mundane,
or creativity ruses.