Did you hear that sound? The wailing cry? Someone’s shut the door, I wonder why? Do they hide the macabre that is inside, the cries that come from the closet? How long to ignore the lives that are gone. Three decades have past with weapons still drawn. The miracles are crushed from dusk until dawn for the cries that come from the closet. The scalpel is now the guillotine blade. The doctor now laughs at the life that God made. A world now hides behind the lowly drawn shade from the cries that come from the closet.
Archive for the poems Category
The stars above, though dimly lit Look down and clearly see The lass I hold within my arms My beautiful Makynna Marie
With eyes of blue that pierce my soul And fills my heart I plea “How can you God trust me a wretch With the girl Makynna Marie?”
At last with voice I know is His He answers like the sea “The girl you hold in arms is mine My beautiful Makynna Marie”