A Poem by Onyekachukwu
Four words -
For now -
Foremost to me:
Forgotten,
But for
Legacies
The Least of These
Foretold,
Foreseen -
“Go forth,
my sheep!
Remember me,”
Forsaken,
Not for leprosy;
Forehead
Gone red,
The left of Thee
Forewent lost ways
Lest face the fee.
(If I see faux
myrrh underfoot,
quite frankly incensed,
I’d make mercy my fruit.)
On He, labor laid and, forbidden to trade — therefore, gravely disdained (for how much can a beggar afford to save?) — still prayed for power and prepared capital to pay…
Offered the choice:
Accepted We,
Who lift lame legs
From lethargy
Forgave
Five fingers
Who’d forgotten the Word,
Lip-synced and swayed
Their way through church :/
Forgone the
foreboding?
Foreclosure awaits.
Though, also forbearance
holds a wealth of weight,
Measures up to task;
Placid is love.
Plus all future has passed
Under the sun,
Time’s four less one,
To total Me -
His One & Only Son
Hath set you free.
Originally Written July 4, 2020; Revisited August 1, 2020.
RIP John Lewis, the Angel that he was…