Mr. Preacherman Poem by Isaac Yaw Osei

Preach, teach all the speech
First, not to instill rightness of this
And that endowed in you as your truliness…
But the knowledge, And they will know all the don'ts.
Till you live no more, everything is temporarily.
But one's got to make something out of you, there
Time is your window And chance, your guarantee
To risk your worth for living to find your way.
One abandoned knows a lot of things outside
But one confined knows everything inside.
Airplanes fly high like birds. Don't they?
They fly high to the skies but they also fall
And this creature knows nothing about love.
Well! That's it.