Private Property by Morula Wa Kutukgolo

Morula Wa Kutukgolo | February 2nd, 2011 | poetry | No Comments

Take care,
Don’t tear me down.
Solid and standing
You found me,
You have no idea
How much love went into making me.
Him who made me,
Says I am his private property.
Him who constructed me,
Says I am a guest house on earth;
For his accommodation only.
He reserves all rights to admission,
He says no trespassers are allowed.
If for some reason
He gave you the right to entry:
Please do not abuse your right,
Or hush penalties
Will be paid if you do.
Damage to this property
Is prohibited,
Precision went into every part of me.
Untidiness keeps him who lives in me
In turmoil,
So please do not mess me up;
Or with a whip,
He will chase you out
And keep you out;
Jesus Christ guardian of my soul.

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