Poetry

Sunday Sunday Medicine

You’re Catholic
I’m a Methodist

She’s Pentecostal
He’s a Sabbatarian

But I tell you
We have only one God

And you tell me
There are three
Persons in one God

How can that be
You are saying
There is another equal to God?

She’s telling him
His church is a waste
That they observe no protocol

But he’s telling her
Sabbath is the first church
On earth

My late uncle was no Jew
But he practiced Judaism

Probably that why he’s on his way
To hellish hell

What of the Muslim
They are always fighting
Termed ‘holy war’

Since they are not
Of same denomination
With me,
They won’t see heaven

Jehovah’s Witness
You that stop me to preach to me
On a Sunday afternoon
On my way back from church
What is your stand?

That harlot was in church
She pretended to be holy

I also saw that paedophile
He received holy communion

Chichi the wicked maid
She twitched a little
When she slapped
Her little brat
In the church

Even the aunty in front of me
Tied her scarf halfway
Just round her head, covering her ears tightly
While the top was seen
I wonder if she’s trying to deceive God

There are lots of pretenders today in church
Sunday Sunday medicine

I was just observing
Everyone of them.
I will never be like them

And heaven must I go
For I am not a sinner as they are

Wait…
What was I doing?
Observing them?

But I was in church today
I do go to church

And I have no flaws in me
Just little sneers

Wait…
What was I doing?
Observing them?
What about where I was…?

Who am I?

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