THE PREACHERS SON

I am the preacher's son and am here to blow the horn,

Into this world I was born so to make it under the sun.

I was raised through my Mama’s cane so I can have a moral brain,

I was taught to read and write so I can know my wrong from right,

I was given the mother care so I can know how to love and share.

I was never pampered but always in the kitchen with her to prepare.

I am the chosen one so I take care of my younger ones.

I am the preacher’s son but sometimes they call me the teacher’s boy.

I am the preacher’s son and am here to propagate the gospel,

My father thought me through the epistles
But am here to write my Chronicles.

People refer to me as a bad boy but isn’t that ironical,

They judge me with what they see and not even being cynical.

Though I hang out with rude boys that see life as a game of toy

That’s what give’s them joy but mine is a different ploy,

As for me, I'm just catching my fun.

We drank, we partied and do a lot of night crawl,

We gisted, laughed and take it to the brawl.

I was involved in everything but never addicted to anything.

But often I heard the voice of my Dad saying:

"My son if sinners entice thee consent thou not'',

Remember a good name is rather to be chosen than silver and gold."

I'm the preacher’s son a bad boy with conscience,

I never do it all, I'm just entertaining my audience.

I am a preacher’s son and I love singing love songs,

to the entire beautiful girls in the house especially the ones that plays along.

I have an eye for good things, that’s why I keep it real and do the strong thing.

I preach the gospel that goes according to St. John,

I'm fresh and clean ladies love me when I put on sean john.

They feel me like teaser, they always want to eat me up like pizza,

I'm the preacher’s son so I serve it to them like a hot suya

But mostly I heard my Mama’s voice saying:

"My son, the son of my womb, the son of my vows,

Give not thy strength unto women, nor thy ways to that which destroyeth kings".

Remember you are the preacher’s son, a Kingship material to bring.

I am the preacher’s son, my Heavenly father taught me to always sheath my sword.

To live in peace with all and never to shed their bloods. 

Even at war he told me rather to use the holy words

Which is a stronger weapon, sharper than any two edged sword.

He taught me to kneel and pray in times of despair

Every time I call, my life he repairs,

He guides me through in my several travail, 

He makes me win and finally makes me prevail.

Truly I'm a preacher’s son and my mother is a Deaconess,

I'm the first born so they made me the leader of the youth witness.

Then I was young and vibrant, never had the heart of a tyrant.

I was once a drummer boy in my local church, I play also the keyboard and sing our local songs.

I was once the Drama cord in my campus fellowship

Though I rarely act but I always held on to the clapper board.

I have a church mind, hope you don't mind.  

I'm the vessel in his hand the project in his palm.

So, to all my friends this note I write, 

For you to really know me and judge me aright.

Be careful how you read me or else you misread me,

I'm not the bad boy you are thinking, even though I hang out with the gangs, pimps and king pin,

I'm not that tough boy you see even though my face look so hard and keen.

I'm just quiet and gentle, reserved and simple,

I pursue through my dream in life without a wrinkle.

I am not always the son of the soil but the son anointed with oil.

I am the preacher’s son;
My name is Fatoyinbo Abayomi Oluwadamilola Bishop 

This is my chronicle, 

I will never go out of the preacher's voice.

Yommybishop©.......2011 October