Wednesday, December 1, 2021





Dear God


It’s me again, coming to express myself, that I have done so many times.

But somehow the answers can’t click in my head,

Because I fell so hard and I am repeating my mistakes over and over

again. Lord are you hearing me?

You said to seek you first, and all your righteousness.

But somehow being righteous, clean, a good soul,

is not easy, because of patterns, because of pride,

because of sin.

It’s hard to break free from lord.

It feels like candy so sweet to the taste.

I feel trapped like chains holding me,

My voice so weak to speak, to be set free.

Refuge I seek.

I heard of hell and its fire, no place for laughter.

The wages of sin is death, maybe this my

net as I am caught, can’t see or think straight

cause my burdens are so great.

Lord I cry out to you, when will it be enough.

Everything looks so good, it’s nice and pleasurable.

Don’t want to live this way, but I am sucked in

with temptations so huge, I know I am dirty,

I know I am weak; I can’t resist.

Lord save my soul. I am running scared.

I fear the evil one, he promised me

so many good treats, wealth, fame and fortune.

How can I resist? I love it, but he tricked me

to believe my life will be good.

Now I am battered and bruised. I felt betrayed and used.

But the evil one kept calling my name

and tempting me with his game.

I keep falling into his trap, which I adapt.

So, I come to you lord again, crying out in pain.

My sin has destroyed me. I am dragging

To the foot of the cross, with cuts and deep wounds.

I am tired, weak and worn. I am a sinner.

I repent of my sins, help me lord.

Help me from this nightmare. I want to be free.

Save my soul Lord. I need your help.

I am on bending knees lord, forgive me.

I can’t do this on my own lord. Where should I start lord?

I am right here lord ready to receive.

And ready to believe.


I Got My Voice


May 6th 2019, the voice came forth.

 Was muted for a long time.

Muted till the dark valleys was home.

Muted didn’t know any worth.

 Benn taken advantage of.

But the words, pen and paper

became good friends.

Had to write to be free.

It was the only language.

Sometimes the words made sense.

Other times it was a pack of rumble.

But that rumbles became storms in the head,

which manifested to books and Anthologies.

Smiled coming to America,

but didn’t know it would start bitter.

Discovered the true calling, no more muted and lost.

The writings touched hearts.

 Writing for the poor, the weak and lost

The ones that are left behind.

The ones that don’t know their writing minds.

They need some answers, they need a word.

That needs to be heard. Climbing out the valley.

Was left to die.

Dug through every mountain.

Scaled the walls for strength

and won the race.

Every pen, every paper rejoiced.

They are glad they were chosen.

Freedom came and a name was birthed.

Suffer no longer rejoice and proclaim.

No more silence, no more tears.

Thanks for the trials, because it was worth it.


Time Is At Hand


The minute, the hour, the days.

Faces of despair and kids cry, they don’t understand.

Time to go, time to get out, leave this place.

The planes leave one by one a sigh of relief for the fortunate.

No one is to be left behind.

But some are behind. What now? What if?

The land, the birth is taken over.

Nowhere to run or hide, but face reality.

It’s crammed no air to breathe, a fight for survival.

Hunger pains, weary and tired day in day out.

Can the US save us? Help us before we die?

 The savior for all, holding life in their hands.

America, let us be free, live-in unity.

Take us please, we want to live.

These devils take over, why are they here?

Haven’t they done enough?

They feel they are heroes, but they are not.

It’s not peace they are after, but control.

For us to beg and be slaves.

Pain and torture they bring.

The last plane left, but how much more to go?

With their last breath, a cry for help. Looks like they won.



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