Preacher Preacher
Preacher preacher, you’re a son of God ain’t ya?
My father deserted me in winter,
I never knew mother’s love either.
When father didn’t come home one night
I thought he would come back the next day.
They said he went to live in his new home,
I thought it was here say.
Morning broke, mid-day stung, evening fell.
Father’s knock I never heard,
on plastic tiles were no signs of his boot step.
Father didn’t come home, I was all alone.
On ancient ancestral ground they lay my mother down.
I searched for memories she left behind,
to this day I cannot find.
Preacher preacher I’m dressed in stigma by a people to whom I am an enigma.
My warm heart and kindness.
These drown me in a stereotype pool of gayness.
Preacher preacher I’m a harlot, I’m a chaser.
Paper chasin’, Western faking in my back yard I hide my culture.
Preacher where is my redemption?
Preacher when is my salvation?
(2013)
