Pause
Mid scroll I start
Log on and wait
Pray first gang
No other food on my plate
Pass it with no PR
Grace is how I’ve been Sir
I would have to slow down just to be selfish
And my honor for the pastors no dey finish
Love is sacrifice, those words are verbiage
What does it take to crack through this world’s mirage?
My voice
He replied my sheep hear my voice
After they hear, they each have a choice
Make real music or chime with the noise
Godzniel
©2026
A boy stared with sightless eyes at the starless sky
The smile across his neck would be pretty if it wasn’t bloodshot…
Like one of the many bristles of the brush, his head held ink, dark and red, ready to paint you a picture.
Of what dead hopes taste like on the tongue of hearts tired from trying
Just this morning his eyes held a song,
His knees said a prayer.
Someone lied to him, said there was salvation in the dead fingers of a nation’s anthem.
Told him to keep faith in the green-white-green textile
He came out with a song, just this morning…
So now the boy gazes.
Undead eyes pregnant with horror.
There are missing pages in his story. Hungers never spoken.
And today, we offer paltry libations of honor, to the heroes whose mangled bodies paint our history.
St.Davnique™️
©2021
Christ a poet 