I’m sorry – Ovenomo Erube

I know I had done wrong
And it has lasted too long
I have caused you so much tears
And it has increased your fears
I intensified your pain
As though being punished with a cane
I caused you depression
Putting you in a state of confusion
I betrayed the trust you had for me
Giving you a reason to despise me
I loosened the bond between us
Even worse than vander waals’
I left you when you needed me most
Like a metal pipe left to rust
I said the wrong words
Even when I knew it hurts
I made you a subject of scorn
Cos I’d soon forgotten we are one
I am here to plead your mercy
Believe me dearie, I’m sorry…

photocredit

For Love – Ovenomo Erube

You go on your knees
With eyes full of tearful pleas
You lose strength
Giving your last breath
You quarrel with friends
Forgetting you’ll need them when it bends
You disobey your parents
Falling into love net
You go against your will
To sweeten the pills
You hate your advisers
Because they were only putting you wise
You break all protocols
Without considering the cost
You change your principles
To fit the new rule
You change your belief
You create a sense of relieve
You forgive easily
To end the quarrel peacefully
You struggle to make ends meet
In the midst of the heat
You close your eyes to the flaw
Thinking it’s the rule of love
You share your most hidden secrets
As though you’re with a catholic priest
You practice self-giving
Making life more interesting
And then you lose blood
Oh my good Lord!!!

Hate

I had a bitter enemy,
His heart to hate he gave,
And when I died he swore that he
Would dance upon my grave;
That he would leap and laugh because
A livid corpse was I,
And that’s the reason why I was
In no great haste to die.

And then – such is the quirk of fate,
One day with joy I read,
Despite his vitalizing hate
My enemy was dead.
Maybe the poison in his heart
Had helped to haste his doom:
He was not spared till I depart
To spit upon my tomb.

The other day I chanced to go
To where he lies alone.
‘Tis easy to forgive a foe
When he is dead and gone. . . .
Poor devil! Now his day is done,
(Though bright it was and brave,)
Yet I am happy there is none
To dance upon my grave

Robert William Service

Run back into their arms
It is widely open
When you are confused
Their words will calm the fumes
When the world turns its back on you
Their open arms will wrap around you
Even when you have erred
You will surely be forgiven
Just like the prodigal son
When you are happy
Their joy becomes full
They are your earthly gods,
Your guardians, your first love,
Your teachers and friends
They will never give up on you, come what may
They are your PARENTS