The sun sang a love song in Spanish that sun-lit summer I met your dad.
Those days, ladies walk with their leg closed until they met their husbands.
You are pronounced pure if those succulent moons on your chest stood firm.
You will be called a saint if you knew nothing about sex.
Your dad was just becoming a man when I met him.
My father won’t call you a man until your bushy chest grow trees.
Your dad words are entrancing, it can make a fish want to swim in steaming oil.
I gave him my heart, the day he said I will forever be a virgin,
If I read that book written when people love.
Son, virginity is a virtue you must value.
A foundation for marital trust.
But, don’t think that all the journey takes.
You need more than a piece-of-flesh to build a lasting home.
If apostle peter said to you faith add
Then to your virginity add common sense – wisdom
Remember Folake, the garden between her was vandalized
Like her, many a lady is victim of circumstance.
Know the difference between real virgins and technical ones.
You can commit sexual acts without intercourse.
You don’t have to dig a hole in that bloody soil before you defiled
Many are running to hell thinking they are dancing at the gate of heaven.
In marriage, faithfulness to your partner is the synonym to virginity.
What kept me pure before marriage is keeping me purer after it.
Your dad took the emblem the first night we meet,
But that inner virtue – virginity is still intact.
Son, I am still a virgin
The poem is about a mum talking to her son on the real meaning of virginity