Its a Sunday no different
from the rest
Waking up early
to pay homage
I grew up to this old
age tradition
Going together
in submission
like robots
But this time i was
alone in the patio
of the old church
I stood there under
the heat of the sun
debating if i just
stay outside or go inside with
the crowd of worshippers
I decided to stay among
candle peddlers and
flower hawkers
Each one tugging my sleeves
to buy their wares
From there i could hear
the priest preaching
'Love is patient,
love is kind'.
The boy with the candles
Is relentless
I kept shaking
my head
He looked at me
with eyes
that spelled hatred
As i inched towards my
car, i saw him follow
without warning he scratched
Its rear end and ran
that was revenge
'Love is patient
Love is kind'
The words kept
ringing in my ears
As i went down
to see my price.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem