Spoiled But Virtuous Poem by Okim Otu

Spoiled but virtuous.

You can tear me into parts or stained my hands with blood,
You can slice me to pieces
Like the oven bound grasses
But will only meet resilience of a mounting flood.

You can fill my ears with subtle words of your soft voice,
You may try in vain to sway
My undaunted gut off way,
But will only meet; the rocky WILL behind my choice.

I may dance in the dark; with your half naked striper,
I may put between your legs,
My treasures and hard earned eggs
But won't loose my head to your luring, cunning tempter.

My head beneath your troubled waters but I'm still fine,
My feet under your carpet;
Dusty as the old scarlet
But i make bold to stand taller than your revered shrine.

Though I take the shape of you, I can never be you.
I may heed to those your cries
But I know that there are lies.
I may bowed before your feet, i will not worship you.

I am just simple, I am not stupid,
I am only strict, I am not wicked,
I may seem spoiled, but I am still virtuous.