Treasure Island

Kweku Atta Crayon

(17th October,1990 / Prestea-Western Region of Ghana)

Never Would Have Made It Without Sin

I was rebuked and ridiculed
They tore my soul and body apart
I could hear the wailing of my heart
I was paralyzed in my seat by their comments
I was dumb founded
I had sinned
But never would have made it without that sin

I was in love with poetry
I drunk it every breakfast
I read it as part of my quiet time
Sleep always found me with poetry in the night
Never would have written one without sin

So I sinned and became a poet
They said I had violated copyright of a poem
They said I have stolen a poem (tears in my eyes)
They said I had brought shame to their page
Yes, that was true, I had infested them with my stolen poem
My bad, I couldn't write one
But now write many because I sinned

They couldn't do anything to help
I gave them no choice than to kill me
They plugged my heart out of my self
They poisoned my spirit with pills of vilifications
Angry oceans washed away my integrity
Respect and honour weaved from the past
varnished in matters of seconds

I parked my shame in my palm
I collected my tears in my heart
I bagged my ignominy
And entombed them in my bed

So I died for a month
I mourned my soul
A funeral of three in my room
My disgraceful self, the mirror and the ceiling

A month of self transfiguration
A month of Surgery by Dr. God
he fixed my neck a new head
he breathed in me a new Life
Pushed a new Clifford into an old world
And handed me a pen, my poetic sword

Still I had not recovered from scars of the past
So I peeped into their world on web
I saw them happy and going
Lost in dilemma
whether will be welcomed or kicked away

She saw me spying, she ran quickly towards me
Held my online head and kissed me on the fore
She grab my scars and made me a fresh skin of today
She flowed into me and made me whole again
Come on, you welcome home, her South African eyes
Told me everything I needed to live
#Noleen Utterance Desiree Titus

He also came arms opened
Embraced me from my shy and timid steps towards him
He dug his hand into my soul and picked the spirit up
He opened the doors to his heaven and welcomed me back
The same heaven I had begrimed
He initiated me a poet and called me a bard
My Jesus online, Sir Kukogho Iruesiri Samson

Am now an Apostle of the kingdom
I am now because I sinned
Never would have made it without sin.

Submitted: Monday, August 26, 2013
Edited: Monday, August 26, 2013

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