The swift moving car overran the vast still forest
As the sun grew dim and gloomy and all was failed to remember
But like a wild animal inexhaustibly searching for prey in the wild forest
I get sentimental for my big clay house where everyone however stays merry because we were never torn asunder
(sing)**oh my home (times 2), where shall i see me home……………………***
Was the chorus we sang as we roll distorted tires to fro the street
and what fantasizes us most was always getting set whenever the sun set for the moonlight play
as our juvenile cliche would be incomplete without a sarcastic croon as the old men play the beat
We were never weary of watching our mothers tirelessly splitting the thick cocoa pods
As we jolt by the incessant hit of the aged lumber man clinging on top of the palm tree
But as my juvenile years passed by i grew an intense nostalgia for my childhood days
I greatly enjoyed the time we spent singing the moon light chorus while we danced around like a barbie
So, please forgive me if i speak in the tongue you do not understand
Please excuse me if my lifestyle is incompatible with your freestyle
Please pardon if this poetry would make you lose your stand coz’ you’ve just been scanned
But I’ll never forgive you if you deny there is truly no place like home which is part of your profile
I am famished so i need to be fed with the delicacy emerging from my mother’s big round pot
I am thirsty so i need my thirst to be quenched by the water from the clay bowl
Designed with her hands and sweat that always pays the debt with no but
I am naked please wear me a thick blanket made from my mother’s obsolete twine and fibre pole
But; however; nevertheless no amount of ‘i guess’ can tell the address to my home
Sentimental i get so i need not a home with a roof that has a bullet proof
My home is situated at a remote settlement by the countryside named home sweet home
So the definition of my perfect home is that which:
No matter the deficiencies of luxury things we were always together no matter the weather
Do you want proof?
My proof is that i hail from a remote settlement by the countryside where the crippled sign post reads “Home Sweet Home”
Where the children chorused the night song that enchanted a feeling inside of that keeps us together
reminding us that no matter where we are in this world, irrespective of the richness let’s remember there will be no place like Home
a time will come when you would wish you could rewind back the hands of time to when you were little just to have some more taste of what was like to play with sand at the sea shore; build a castle with your hands and legs. so, while you are young and agile please HAVE SOME FUN!
(singing) swing low swing chariot coming back to carry me home x2
Rhyme is defined as the repetition of similar sound
but every iota of rhyme i uttered was the repetition of my flesh
trailing on the ground of my newly found poetic sound background
never knew i needed to start afresh
twinkle twinkle little stars
how i wonder what you are
up above the world so high
like a diamond in the sky
i grew up a singer, a dancer,a preachers son
i grew up a fighter, i grew up finer
but because i was a minor, i was blinded to the fact i grew up a sinner
what i knew was to sprinkle sprinkle little lies
never listen to mums advice
always want to compromise
like a chameleon in disguise
for when i was a child, i spoke like a child
understanding not what he passed through to craft the words i spake… this is not flakes
but i enjoyed every bit of words and rhyme i digested; dancing as though i was free from falling
then a strange poetic tune began percolating into my soul
my head got ached, my flesh got baked by a nail and a hammer
my whole body got plagued.. experiencing the first miracle of sweat turning into blood
i thought i saw freedom from afar, but it was vague
what clothed my face was the excruciating rhyme that had re shaped my diction
it escalated to becoming an affliction, addiction, this is no fiction but what i needed to my rhyme to gain VISION was the GRACE that came through the CRUCIFIXION
my head my shoulder my knees my toe
My head!, my shoulder! my knees! my toe
my head my shoulder my knees my toe
they all belong to …………..
i remained silent coz what this part of my body belonged to was to
a good looking uninviting rhyme called SIN.. eww! its so sour like a lime
One two, buckle my shoes, out of the blues he knotted my screws
three four, knock at the door of my life and restore
five six, pick up sticks, made them flick on the crucifix
seven eight, lay them straight, (laid them straight) x3 and was crucified
nine ten a big fat hen, a big fat hen! no but a big fat lamb was slaughtered for my big fat sin
on eleven, twelve he gave the law writing them on the tabloid of my heart
But My 100 billion nerve cells could not comprehend His Reasoning;
neither could my 206 Bones tell the rhythm that Bruised his bones
Even when my hippocampus tries to remember, it only shows “The end”
Even when i live up to 120 years, I’m too young to know the amount of the loan
he loaned me when he died paying the debt all alone
My heart got shut; i could not **** breath
But never realized his last *** breath was ‘it is finished’
My limbs and my ribs got offered a bid of 10,000 shots
i called 911 to come to my rescue but dint realized i was too short
i was short of his glory
My five sense organ got disabled to see, feel, taste, smell nor hear.
the only thing i could see was my flaws on the floor of the Law
the only thing i could feel was the breath of life turning into breath of strife
just because i did not turn my self in to go under God’s knife
the only thing i could taste was the manner prepared by my flesh with the banner “Mind your Manners!”
what manner of Man he his who came to change my manner with a nail and a hammer
But theologically speaking, he gave himself in that my Biology
could match his genealogy to reflect in my ecology
then my ideology changed
even philosophy could not change the methodology that equation Believe x Christ = everlasting life coz when you believe Christ you’ll have everlasting life
but::
Mary had a little lamb, little lamb, little lamb
Mary had a little lamb its fleece was white as snow
and every where that Mary went, Mary went, Mary went
every where that Mary went the lamb was sure to go
but this time the lamb decided not to follow Mary to wherever she goes
or fulfill the nursery rhyme that had been inscribed like ‘mother goose’
instead the lamb willingly died and was set loose
to set us free from the hideous rhyme that tasted as sour as a lime juice
ITS THE RHYME OF SALVATION
Sheilyrics 