ELLA IS FREE FOR REAL!

Ella had just turned three
When daddy hung on the tree
She thought he had done it.
But someone else had done it.

“First it was my stepfather,
Another was a trusted neighbor.
At fifteen…hospital… and in labor,
And my pimp was the father.”

Before long, she weaned her baby.
“Dear mama, that’s your grandbaby.
And Dear mama, Ella is outta here.”
“Hey! Ella!” Mama, she won’t hear.

Then  back to her hood
Not in mum’s neighborhood
Weed, crack, and meth
Until their death, they met.

Often, sirens; often behind bars.
Then again to the bars.
College in the future?
That’s not in the picture.

But the still small voice
Even with the thick poise
Pierced the heavy noise
“Leave me, I hate you, voice”.

Money and sex were in the cup
Drugs, alcohol, were by the way.
Again and again with the cop
Of course, that is just the way.

“Has the jury reached a verdict?”
Ninety-five years is our verdict.
For by Ella many are dead.
But for this Ella One was dead.

But He Who died for Ella
Does now live in our Ella
And He Who for Ella died
The same for us all died.

Thirteen years have come and gone
Another in the video had the gun.
And Whom the Son makes free
Indeed the same is made free.

 Sylvanus Ibem
26th July, 2013

Jesus loves you.
Talk to you later.