Poem: CHRONICLES OF A CHURCH RAT

On a white pitched holy perish peach.
Lay a young favoured priest.
Wretched rags wore him.
But big dream had him so deam.

In the gathering of elephants.
He worked service to the ants.
Many will want to use him.
Many will love to laugh at him.

With the rags he wiped his tears away.
With same rags he cleaned the floor everyday.
His heart filled with fear and shame.
As he opens the door to fame.

Under the breach he sleeps.
Helpless and hopeless.
Where the rats takes her leave, there he lived.

One day when haven saw his masked face.
He became the earth's fame.
Though his family was slain.
He never forgot there pain.
So his story begun after he was shot with a gun.

By:
Beryl Rem (Promise Sylvester)