By Chidi Anthony Opara
Females on monthly flows
Now walk
On the sacred grounds
Where libations
And sacrifices are offered
To the good gods,
Nothing is sacred anymore.
Apparels
Of mourning widows
Now serve as bedcovers
On their lovers' beds,
Nothing is sacred anymore.
Men with title rings
On their ankles
Now pound cassava
Inside the kitchens
Of their mistresses,
Nothing is sacred anymore.
Scoundrels
Are now custodians
Of our symbol of Justice.
Whores
We now call women of virtue.
We helped Satan
Sneak into sainthood,
Hallowed names
Are no more hallowed,
Nothing is sacred anymore.
On the bald skulls
Of the elderly,
Spoiled children now practise knocks,
Nothing is sacred anymore.
Ouch!
Retribution,
Repentance,
Revival.
Sacred is still sacred.
(Poem presented as social service, all rights reserved.)
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Chidi Anthony Opara is a "Life Time Achievement" Awardee, Registered Freight Forwarder, Professional Fellow Of Institute Of Information Managerment, Africa, Poet and Publisher of PublicInformationProjects
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