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Observations of a Young Nigerian Female . Powered by Blogger.

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I am young, "normal" and I like to write. People say I eat too much, people don't know what they are saying.

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Dear Lord,

Forgive me.
I have become the people I detest.
In my detest, I was tested with the same test;
I failed. 

In my mind, 
I have thought the same thoughts that made them thorns.
Their thorns are on their tongues;
My barb is worse, for I bite back with no bark

Will you assure me
That you take away the pressure in no small measure,
That I will regard and hate not,
That I will be content and quench contest,
Run between my lines and look down only to help the fallen? 

Shall you not give me some vial 
that holds appreciation impartial?
The elixir that will clean the rust
Off my hateful heart ,
Like lather displaces stain

Love me again, dear Lord
For in my occupation with a speck,
I have forgotten to love myself


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I am a young, Nigerian female who does not possess the abilities and genetic disposition to reserve her comments.

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