To be righteously candid,
the truth is hard to kill like a stubborn weed.
Whenever you try to tell,
your heart would ring like an ancient catholic bell.
But I will make my confession
not minding the devil's facial expression.
I would admit I've done something wrong
and gladly go to where such offenders belong.
I've innocently committed a strange sin
the kind the good Lord have never seen.
This sin is so much red than scarlet;
It's much more worse than to steal Judas's wallet.
When I said I lost Rebecca-
the very heartbreak that turned me into a baker;
I told a truth-intended lie,
that I almost wanted to wish to die.
It was a lie! I dearly love my life
whether or not I have a wife.
I would rather endure heartbreak
than to experience a brief breath break.
But there is yet another sin
just after the previous crimson scene;
When my wife walked away
and staged my flaw like a Shakespearean play.
I was caught under love's spell again
like a bush rat crushed under a moving train.
I found love on the face of my Tv
when I fell for a lady I saw in a movie.
She has a skin so brown and bold
and a delicate face that wouldn't grow old.
Her eyes are so vast like the caribbean sea.
All her beauty is fact even to a pharisee.
I love her form so terribly much
than a first time free British lunch.
I often dab my lips on my Tv screen
lustfully imagining that I'm kissing her skin.
But the truth still remains stubborn
like an Ogbanje that yearns for a reborn;
That I'm in love with a super star
while I'm just a candle, stuck inside a jar.
I humbly plead for your forgiveness
to pardon my flaws and my unrighteousness.
But if I should be punished by your reason,
I'd love to be locked in a Tv prison.
David O. Olusanya
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem