The day was Hot;
A boy sits lost without a Father…

Poem....

Here I sit, all tired and hot from a game of no worth.
It takes me from behind; it makes me think of the past… Is this the end, or is this the beginning?

A poem once written by a sixth grader,
Glued to inside of a molested math book.
A poem asking the future of his life,
One written at a young age,
Asking for direction in a desolate world.

How the times have changed,
The innocence of youth lingers…
Spread delicately over the years; it has died.
In times of valor, confusing and strong, The days faded as a damp cloud settled in.
Tearing at the heart, covering the land in depression.
Oh how the days faded, and the night…
A misguided comfort of lust and love,
Love is only a mask worn to hide the scares of failure.

Broken and battered, a life best taught in jail.
He struggles to find face in a mirror of blood.
How is it that one can fall so far?
Is it dreams broken and lost, a nightmare disguised?
In these days, we know to many that have fallen, Those that have lost a faith in something better; A faith of a second chance in something risen.

Children are delicate, strong willed and passionate… They trust the deceiving unknowing of the dangers.
Contemplating their future and swearing never to fail, They grow and blossom in their fragile state.
God how is it they drown in pain so quickly?

Walk to them on the murky waters Lord.
Save them as Peter; our faith is tainted.
The waters dark and cool…
We sink quickly to the simple comfort in death.
How can we swim in death?
Our oxygen deprived lungs burning,
Screaming for reality to fade and hell to spring forth.
Our lives dieing in the solemn silence of an unmarked grave; Lord part the waters once more, Place our feet on dry land, our hearts at peace.

Bring back the faith; let us see our face in the mirror, The mirror of Your blood shed for us.
Let us see Your face before us leading the way.
The way to golden streets,
To a land of milk and honey;
Were water is of the Spirit enchanting our lives, And our lungs burning with praise to You on high!
Break the hold of sin,
Bring peace to this game of no worth!

 

I want comments, thoughts, and blogs that reflect on what you have read in this poem! I'll respond to you!

Love,
RAY


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