Problem Solved

I really feel that this poem is meant to really reach out and touch someone special. So here goes.

It is by: Christopher Lee Murray



Brought into this world by two people in sin,
Nine months in the womb, now my life ready to begin.

Hoping and praying that my parents will do their best to provide for me, For I am unable to do so in this early childhood infancy.

Install in me are the points and views of what every my parents may believe,
Having to endure this dreadful misery until I'm old enough to leave.

Listening to the drunken rage and piercing screams as I lay here in bed,
This voice pounds in my head " It's all your fault, You're better off dead."

All the pleas and prayers didn't stop the fighting or help them get along with one another,
Forced to watch the destruction of my family, saying good - by to my Dad to stay with my Mother.

Trapped in this tug-a-war battle of " Who do you love best & with who do you want to live."
My vulnerable heart being shattered and torn with only so much left for it to give.

Not even a year later this strange man was brought into my live.
Unaware and shocked by the announcement - my Mom was now his wife.

At first they hinted around at certain topics that at the time I found a little distorted,
But later in argument it all can out: "Your Dad is not your father, you're adopted, and were almost aborted."

Floored by this truth came a lot of emptiness, resentment, and mental indigestion,
My past, my future, and who I really was came to a never ending question.

Not knowing where to turn, I isolated my self and bottled my problem deep within,
The battle of good and evil fought for body, soul and mind and evil always seemed to win.

Bound by physical illness and mental distress I had to change before I brought everything to an end,
But who I needed to turn to wasn't family, a neighbor or even a friend.

I swallowed my pride and took all my sorrows and my guilts that were destroying me,
Fell down on my knees and cried out to God "Whatever it takes Lord . . . Please set me free!"

So with all my short comings and all my falls, All confrontations, even the ones unresolved,
I can hear the Lord and His comforting words say, "Don't worry my child . . . Problems Solved!"

FOOTPRINTS?????????????????????

I know this sounds like the normal Footprints poem, but, (no pun intended) it's not. This is a little different but cute and has a good meaning also. So here goes.

By: Unknown Author!!!!!


Butt prints in the sand.


One night I had a wondrous dream,
One set of footprints there was seen,
The footprints of my precious Lord,
But mine were not along the shore.

But then, some stranger prints appeared,
And I asked the Lord, "what have we here?"
Those prints are large, and round, and neat,
"But Lord, there are too big for feet."

"My child," He said in somber tones,
"For miles I carried you alone.
I challenged you to walk in faith,
But you refused and made me wait"

"You disobeyed, you would not grow
The walk of faith, you would not know,
So I got tired, I got fed up,
And then I dropped you on your butt."

Because in life, there comes a time,
When one must fight, and one must climb
When one must rise and take a stand,
Or leave their buttprints in the sand.