Sunday, 9 March 2014

"The Saint" and "The Sinner"



The Saint

Here she comes
Gullible and naive.
Young like a rose bud
Wandering like a honey bee.
She comes to me
Running and laughing
For chocolates and sweets
For new stories I promised her.
Today I teach her
the lessons of Body.
"Come my precious
Oh! lets hurry."
I give her pleasure
And yet she cries
"Shh! My honey
Don't tell this to mummy."
She backs away
Step by step on her little feet.
I am not worried
Of what she may bleat.
The world knows
I am a Saint.

The Sinner

Look at the saint they are celebrating
With his heavenly smile.
They say he speaks gold
And thinks like an angel.
He is a modern man
With modern ideas.
He made lives with his gestures
He changed lives with his gestures.
He is my terrible past
Lurking in shadowy corners of my mind.
He dwells there, wandering
Waiting for his time
To pounce on my thoughts
Like he did, on my body years ago.
Look at the happy faces
That surround him
Of friends and family
Of people close to my heart.
They smile and adore him
And it stifles my voice.
My voice gets lost
In the celebration.
I sit in a corner and cry
I am the sinner.