Love PoemsPoetrySad Poems

Nailed to Tradition

I have held
The fortified city
Beautifully balled on the chest
That wears the mermaid beauty.

I’m a victim of this tradition:
I’m an outcast
Singing the beauty of Africa
With a beaded rules against love.

I’m in love with an outcast,
I’ve kissed an ‘osu’;
My blood is in her womb.

Can an unclean be made clean?
Would the blood of a god
Feast from the corridor of slaves?

Help me father,
I’m lost in a trackless point
Because of love.

Why not share?

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