Wash my sins away from society.
To shatter mother’s hope is not my dream,
She works long hours for me, in my thirties.
Decaying limps and decades of renting.
Lord judge me!
for letting the landlord play with my body,
He is my Messiah, the one who keeps us off the streets.
My greatest sin knocked at twelve years,
once with a note and a lollipop
thrice with bank notes that came with blood.
Misery comes when he is drunk,
wet chest on my skin
hot breath in my ear, the devil whispers in pain.
Wash my sins away!
I held his daughters and sons for weeks
they starve me of happiness.