Christian Poetry: Prodigal

No more worthy to be called
A son for his appearance was
Worse than the servants

Desiring a quick adventure 
Of his youthfullness,
Desiring to leave .

To a far country, went he
To a place where he can spend
Lavishly so his name be
Hailed as Lord.

Desiring vain worship from ladies 
As he frivolously throws
"Bunch of money" on them.

Like a shower of rain
Lack quickly descended on him
Without him noticing,
Famine ravaged the land, too 
And oh! How broke  he was
No more worthy, to be called a son,
He trudged on to his father's house
Tired of feeding from the greedy pigs 
Home, went he, in disdain.

But His father welcomed
Him as a prince,
With hugs and kisses
For him, shed tears of joy,
"The Lost son is home!"

To those still lost,
The father is seeking, his arms,
Open, ready to hug and clothe thee
Hey! Return home, he's still waiting.🙂

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