Not hunger; no; not the ache of the poor
But pride in a dress; and the thirst for more
Not empty pots; not broken bread
But sweet; slick words that turned their heads
Kiise because of empty plates
Cos' she had gardens; she had gates
She's no street girl, no, she ain't born for coins
Yet she danced where fire and shame conjoins
"Oju loro wa; inu l’oro ku;"
The face may smile; but the heart hides rue
Ẹnu dídùn, ẹrin amúlùmálà,
A sugared tongue can sell banana,
She called him “Brother”
“Alasiri mi"; “My person,” “He’s just too nice"
But behind every “bestie” she swore was harmless...
Lurked a shadow with a price.
He warned; "stay away from that male friend; that whispering breeze"
But she mocked his worry; and called it disease
"You're insecure;" she laughed; with pride
Till tears found rivers she could not hide
Besties and backbones; they called them sweet
While secrets bloomed beneath their feet
He kissed her mind before her lips
And stole her soul with honeyed scripts
"Shey you no trust me ni?” she'd say to her man; “oh, you’re insecure.”
But trust was a window she left open; until shame walked in the door.
Not every smile is holy ground
Not every shoulder is safe or sound
"Confidant" today; but digger tomorrow
Building castles of regret and sorrow
The trap was not sudden; the trap was slow
A garden of laughter; hiding woe
She played with fire; called it light
Until darkness swallowed her sight
For every video the world has seen
A thousand more live in between
Secrets tucked in perfect gowns
Sins that never make a sound
Ṣọ ra, arábìnrin, guard your flame,
Not every candle bears your name.
Ẹnu dídùn le fà èṣù wá
A honeyed tongue can sell your star
The tongue that flatters can also slay
And wolves wear suits in clear broad day
In the end; Dear sister...
The devil does not always come with horns
Sometimes he comes as comfort...
As kindness, well-dressed and sworn.
Let’s not confuse attention with affection
Or presence with protection
Let’s remember....
Some men befriend your soul, only to auction your reflection.
So guard your gates
Love who loves you, even in truth’s raw form
Lest you join the growing silence
Of those who fell, and now mourn