What if God was a man, like mortal beings
He would be a man feared by kings
He would awe the world by doing unspeakable things,
The world will know of his name
Atheist would try but science can’t explain.

If God was a man,
He would seat on the throne of dilemma
Trying to answer the prayers of every man
The common man who prays for good health
For business sake, the coffin maker prays for death,
The common man who prays for peace in his place
The lawyer who prays for his case.

If God was a man,
One that I can touch this close
If man propose, how dare he dispose!
Isn’t he human like us?
Why does he find joy in our loss?

If God was a man,
Would he also fall in love?
Would that explain the birth of his son?
When he dies where will he go?
Would he tell us world secrets no one knows?

If God was a man,
Would we see him as God?
Would you believe if he performed miracles as God?
Or if he spoke in a heavenly voice?
Would you rather think
he is just a man seeking fame by force

What if God was a man, like mortal beings
He would be a man feared by kings
He would awe the world by doing unspeakable things,
The world will know of his name
Atheist would try but science can't explain.
If God was a man,
He would seat on the throne of dilemma
Trying to answer the prayers of every man
The common man who prays for good health
For business sake, the coffin maker prays for death,
The common man who prays for peace in his place
The lawyer who prays for his case.
If God was a man,
One that I can touch this close
If man propose, how dare he dispose!
Isn't he human like us?
Why does he find joy in our loss?
If God was a man,
Would he also fall in love?
Would that explain the birth of his son?
When he dies where will he go?
Would he tell us world secrets no one knows?
If God was a man,
Would we see him as God?
Would you believe if he performed miracles as God?
Or if he spoke in a heavenly voice?
Would you rather think
he is just a man seeking fame by force

I am what you might call an abnormal specie
Although I possess most characteristics of homosapiens I feel ****...different
People say I'm an epitome of art which I find amusing
I feel more like a homeless spirit tossed around by the wind without purpose.
I hardly do things my friends do, sometimes I try hard to blend
My friends tell their love stories and emotions
I go to my story *** and cook creative stories of me spiced with scenes from Indian movies
I have a barricade of fear, anxiety and distrust around my stomach so you can't find butterflies there
Don't get me wrong, I haven't had any heart breaks... Maybe once or twice... I don't remember because I'm not bothered
I gave up on love long time ago... Maybe I didn't... Maybe it just... Left.
So here I am on a serious relationship with depression and solitude
My friends tell tales of their *** experience with girlfriends, party strangers but I'm too shy to tell them of my daily ******* with my lovers.
I flirt sometimes and it seems like a natural gift, I could say sweet words that will make Shakespeare's grave tremble but I never have the strength to go further; to lie on their naked body because I fear I might break their hearts if I go too deep. She might think I'm in love but get disappointed the next morning then sing aloud the daily female hymn "Men are ****"
I'm considered the devil's agent because I'm one of the few species who dare to ask "why" whenever it comes to religious matters.
I am a stranger to myself, I say and do things I never thought I could. I'm a coward, luckily my alter ego is fierce, he's the gifted one; the poet and smooth talker, I just take the credits.
I'm scared of marriage, will I marry because I love her or because my mother desperately needs grandchildren so she can sing lullabies to their tiny ears? Will I love my wife? How will I when love seems like a foreign, ancient and forgotten language?
I am the only one of my kind.
I am... I really don't know who I am.

Poets are murderers
Yes we are.
We are teachers of the ultimate truth
We enlighten the universe of the foundation of life
We teach them love
With sweet tongues we forge our words
Making them into beautiful sounds for the ears
And pleasant sight to the eyes.
We feed their hearts with fantasies and pleasant tales
That make their soul hunger for this sacred truth called love.
Then fate flips the cards
Attention here and there from strangers we never knew
Disciples we never saw, followers who clung to our every word
Pleading for that sacred love that we taught
But this love is not ours, we are only messengers of this
Sacred love that most of us never had.
It becomes our duty to **** their innocent heart
And shatter their simple soul with the bitter truth
That they fell in love with the poem and not the poet.

Mama, what does it mean to be free?
To think and act on your own?
If they free our skin will they free our minds?
Will we learn to love and appreciate one another?
Will my bronze skin be beautiful?
Will men admire my ***** hair
Will they rather look at her pale skin in awe?
Can we be truly free or will it be an illusion?
Will we stand equal or forever inferior to colonizers?
If freedom walks in
Will we mourn our brothers or sing songs of freedom
Mourning is easy, we mourn daily
If we are to sing freedom songs
How will we sing songs we were never taught
If freedom doesn't walk in
Will we be slaves forever?
Mama, what does it mean to be free?

Beneath the tattered roof with rays of disquietude peeping is where you will find me
My feet swollen because I have no sandals
My clothes are torn and you can see my flesh
Tightly attached to my bones like leggings.

I am a cave man. I search only for food and a place to sleep
At night the cold cuddles and I can barely sleep
The mosquitoes sing restless hymns in my ears and my blood is the price for their service.
I go from street to street with an unwashed body
Begging, then stealing becomes the only option.

I come from a world where pain and suffering is no visitor
A world where hymns of death are sung daily
Begging to leave this world, hoping to find joy at the other side.
What if we continue this
journey at the other side?
Singing hymns of agony for eternity

I have seen God.
Her head raised high, poised and beautiful
Smooth skin that seems to control nature in her veins.
In her was history, the first, the genesis.
Her love is impartial, incomparable.

I have seen God
In different shades of earth and nature
Made of Protons, neutrons, melanin
She is root; the source of life
Life itself, the very beginning.

I have seen God
She would trade her life for her children
She’s an armour and life jacket
She is the source of life and peace.
She is more than an angel, she is a god.

I have seen God
She is black.