Sometimes I think am Siloma maybe because am of light complexion Other times I think maybe it is because am a writer and I do the things I do Sometimes

I have asked you for everything in life Wealth, health and a sane mind Beautiful wife and kids and holidays to unwind I have asked for opened deals, straightened paths

How quick I reply to her message And how fast I change my mind from reading your word are just the same There is no thin line to how fast

I used to be proud Wait… Who confesses that? I used to think more of myself That others came last I was self-seeking and greedy Willing to do anything at

Everyone is just perfect on their feed With timelines filled with sweet notes And words of praise and masterly Everyone is clean and has done good But ‘other’ people let

How many times have I questioned you? ‘When? How long? Can’t you see?’ How many times have I doubted you? ‘Are you really God? Can you really do it?’ And

One day, my heart shall sing My jubilant self will bleat like a lamb One day my eyes shall run dry From the precipitation of my tears One day a

When the ‘soot-stained’ raise their hands Acknowledging God’s presence When someone you loathed before Cries upon the spirit-filled sanctuary It feels fake, a mockery to the faith When someone who

Sometimes reaching you is a puzzle A jigsaw with missing pieces At most times I do not understand The smoke from my burning self What caused the fire? My sins

Am in a dark dungeon Cold and lifeless Am depraved of joy Am succumbed to loneliness And all I need is a voice   I need to hear a cricket

It really matters if you appear On the front cover of a popular magazine You become the face of the day And everyone shines grace unto you It really matters

If I am to die tomorrow I will not cry of my short life Nor wail for an extension If I am to die tomorrow I will be jubilant of