This poem was published in the Writers Space Africa (WSA) Monthly Literary Magazine, March 2018
Where love is wanting
There my heart is waiting
Where food is lacking
There I bed my fasting
Poor, sick, sad, defeated man
Hungry souls eaten by the sun
Shall find strength when I’m done
Thus I live my Lent
Whether little or much
It matters not as such
Than a change of heart
A conversion on my part.
If I fast a plate
And cannot uproot my hate
Or I pray all-day
But cannot tame my say
Or I give out sums
But justice bid not welcome
Or I build God a Church
But oppress the wretch
All is loss, all is distress
Lent goes vain, all hopeless.
Save only a change of heart,
A conversion on my part
