I am not perfect
But I strife to work on my defect.
Like a mother hen, I protect my crown
From peering eyes, praying I fall down.
Their cheering are mere adulation
They gaze not for admiration
But for disappointment
I see eyes filled with resentment
Like an ant, I work diligently.
Knowing, they are working tirelessly,
To steal my crown and erase my name.
Dear Lord, let me not be ashame.
Ears earnestly waiting for my fall,
Dear Lord, your name I call.
They are plotting to steal my crown
And see me on clean rags in town.
© Imoisili, Uyiosa Osagie.