K
Kirsty
Guest
it is very interesting and i like it
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A
angelacgdowns
Guest
This poem is meant to touch the heart and convey a message.
I want to know if it does that.
This is a poem I wrote a few days ago.
I was just wanting to get your opinion and constructive criticism.
I WILL choose a best answer.
=]
Thanks!
Free.
Saharma lives a life that grows harder and harder each day;
Why suffering affects an eight year old is a mystery on the African plains.
Orphaned with two younger brothers to be taking constant care of;
The only thing that gets them through is their unfailing love.
Forming clay bricks in dry desert heat;
she earns a cent a day trying to make ends meet.
Before attempting to sleep in a box made of cardboard;
the three little children pray for deliverance from the Lord.
Stealing bread scraps and dirty water from the market shop;
her brother grabs his exposed ribs and cries “Make the pain stop!”
Forced maturity on her part; nearly no one has her heart.
Their living conditions are horrendous, she hopes and prays for God to mend this.
The heat of the Sahara is comparable to the warmth of her heart;
The mighty power of the lion’s run, is the strength of her faith when all is done.
Running quickly from the United Chinese Guard;
Lao says a quick prayer and grasps his sister’s wrist hard.
He’ll become a martyr for believing;
Every corner becomes deceiving.
Tucked deep away in his tattered coat’s pocket;
he hides a small Gideon’s bible and his mother’s precious locket.
His tiny sister forms a silent cry:
“Lao, is this the day we’re going to die?”
Lao tries to hide the tears and fears forming in his eyes;
“I don‘t know the answer to that, sweet Saku, but today we are truly alive.
They can take our food and shelter and we’ll run if we must;
But never forget baby sister, who truly takes care of us.
Even now, though it’s just you and me;
One day, like those in America, we too shall be free.”
He holds her in his arms, singing the last lullaby she’ll ever hear;
Though this life has passed, eternity is near.
Stories of those less fortunate than we;
As they suffer, at least we have the option to leave.
We’re ungrateful for most everything;
Yet they take scraps as a gift from their king.
We complain as we look at our circumstances;
We don’t realize that they’re the ones who don’t get second chances.
Our careers and material possessions rule who we are;
For those we disregard; love is what takes them far.
The kingdom of Heaven belongs to such as these;
Because they trust with their lives, the presence of God will never leave.
Why can’t we have the faith of a child, the trust of an innocent, the love of a spirit mild?
Someday we’ll find, we aren’t of like mind.
America, wake up; Crisis may be, but as for me?
I trust in my God.
I want to know if it does that.
This is a poem I wrote a few days ago.
I was just wanting to get your opinion and constructive criticism.
I WILL choose a best answer.
=]
Thanks!
Free.
Saharma lives a life that grows harder and harder each day;
Why suffering affects an eight year old is a mystery on the African plains.
Orphaned with two younger brothers to be taking constant care of;
The only thing that gets them through is their unfailing love.
Forming clay bricks in dry desert heat;
she earns a cent a day trying to make ends meet.
Before attempting to sleep in a box made of cardboard;
the three little children pray for deliverance from the Lord.
Stealing bread scraps and dirty water from the market shop;
her brother grabs his exposed ribs and cries “Make the pain stop!”
Forced maturity on her part; nearly no one has her heart.
Their living conditions are horrendous, she hopes and prays for God to mend this.
The heat of the Sahara is comparable to the warmth of her heart;
The mighty power of the lion’s run, is the strength of her faith when all is done.
Running quickly from the United Chinese Guard;
Lao says a quick prayer and grasps his sister’s wrist hard.
He’ll become a martyr for believing;
Every corner becomes deceiving.
Tucked deep away in his tattered coat’s pocket;
he hides a small Gideon’s bible and his mother’s precious locket.
His tiny sister forms a silent cry:
“Lao, is this the day we’re going to die?”
Lao tries to hide the tears and fears forming in his eyes;
“I don‘t know the answer to that, sweet Saku, but today we are truly alive.
They can take our food and shelter and we’ll run if we must;
But never forget baby sister, who truly takes care of us.
Even now, though it’s just you and me;
One day, like those in America, we too shall be free.”
He holds her in his arms, singing the last lullaby she’ll ever hear;
Though this life has passed, eternity is near.
Stories of those less fortunate than we;
As they suffer, at least we have the option to leave.
We’re ungrateful for most everything;
Yet they take scraps as a gift from their king.
We complain as we look at our circumstances;
We don’t realize that they’re the ones who don’t get second chances.
Our careers and material possessions rule who we are;
For those we disregard; love is what takes them far.
The kingdom of Heaven belongs to such as these;
Because they trust with their lives, the presence of God will never leave.
Why can’t we have the faith of a child, the trust of an innocent, the love of a spirit mild?
Someday we’ll find, we aren’t of like mind.
America, wake up; Crisis may be, but as for me?
I trust in my God.
K
Kirsty
Guest
it is very interesting and i like it
K
Kirsty
Guest
it is very interesting and i like it