Cookie For Sale
This woman,
Lives next to my house.
Endowed and beautiful,
Fine everything,
But makes me want to send my kids to their grandmother,
Because am afraid they'll heed to her words.
This woman next door,
I no longer know her face.
Visitors flock in day in day out,
Carrying nothing with them
But cheap bottled water.
And when they come out,
I think they pour the water on their bodies,
Because the bottles come out empty,
while their bodies are drenched.
My brother,
The visitors don't come in packs,
They come one after another.
Sometimes I tend to think they're men of God,
Because soon after they enter,
This woman continually says 'Yes' and 'Amen'.
But again,
Do men of God require closed doors for miracles to happen?
And at least they carry Bibles with them.
Another thing brother,
The carpenter hasn't been paid for three months.
He's a regular visitor too,
Comes every Saturday morning,
Only difference is that he carries his tools,
And after a series of hammering and nailing,
He packs and goes.
The other day I heard him complain,
He won't accept this woman's form of payment.
He wants money.
Brother,
Maybe its time you replaced wood with metal,
Maybe then your bed won't break every week,
Or maybe rationing of food will help.
Because until she changes her ways,
I won't call her by her name.
Lives next to my house.
Endowed and beautiful,
Fine everything,
But makes me want to send my kids to their grandmother,
Because am afraid they'll heed to her words.
This woman next door,
I no longer know her face.
Visitors flock in day in day out,
Carrying nothing with them
But cheap bottled water.
And when they come out,
I think they pour the water on their bodies,
Because the bottles come out empty,
while their bodies are drenched.
My brother,
The visitors don't come in packs,
They come one after another.
Sometimes I tend to think they're men of God,
Because soon after they enter,
This woman continually says 'Yes' and 'Amen'.
But again,
Do men of God require closed doors for miracles to happen?
And at least they carry Bibles with them.
Another thing brother,
The carpenter hasn't been paid for three months.
He's a regular visitor too,
Comes every Saturday morning,
Only difference is that he carries his tools,
And after a series of hammering and nailing,
He packs and goes.
The other day I heard him complain,
He won't accept this woman's form of payment.
He wants money.
Brother,
Maybe its time you replaced wood with metal,
Maybe then your bed won't break every week,
Or maybe rationing of food will help.
Because until she changes her ways,
I won't call her by her name.
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