The inebriated heart
The object of shame i object
But in the threshold of my table
I stumbled like an unguided toddler.
Though, it turned away my spirit from
The visible world rules by reasonable being,
In paradise I thought I was
But in my foolishness my I spilled out immoral
And filthy word from the heart of alcoholism.
Inebriated man, a song rolling in and out of my
Eardrum as the bata drumers do, the young
Tossed me round the street like a little kite.
Since reality of life had vanished from sense
I was not ashamed of the multitude in the city
since my sight was failed of recognition;
My discretion and value are priceless like some
Nigerian politicians. My mind was weak and
The object of shame i object but i slithed to a
market of shame.
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