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Why Don't They See
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson

 

Why Don't Tey See

 

How great it is to live today

With both feet on the ground

Fear and doubt blown far away

And true love widely found

 

Yet why do neighbours fail to see

Friends still fail to hear

That I’m in God, The Lord’s in me

And have no need to fear

 

Now safe and sound from what I was

From how I lived before

Because I’m changed and all because

Salvation knocked my door

 

But did He knock and come inside?

Surely I’m not deceived!

Why else would God persist to hide?

If Light and Truth’s received

 

Does Satan still control my mind?

Did I not heed God call?

Am I a fool still lost and blind?

Am I not saved at all?

 

Is it my thoughts my words my deeds?

Are devils still not gone?

Or is my life so full of weeds?

The world can’t see God’s Son

 

Oh God; forgive this wilful child

Not living as I should

Please let me now be reconciled

Complete through Jesus’ blood

 

Lend ear this child on bended knee

Set free my desperate heart

Please hear my soul, my humble plea

And grant a brand new start.....

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Submitted: Thursday, August 13, 2015

Last Updated: Thursday, August 13, 2015

About the Poet
I never wrote a word of poetry in my life. Till the day Jesus took my hand and touched my soul.....I invite your response. However most poems are not about me! Very few are. But the feed-back good, bad or indifferent is always desired. Not meant to offend, but I write about many things in many a guise. Of life, death, lost, found, saved, backsliders, new comers, repenting souls, doubting hearts, heathens, Christians, fire, water, Satan's daughter, wallowing in sin, saved, made sound walking in Light, graceful righteous. Suffering, ecstatic, bored, excited, sad, delighted, Sick, well, lame, able, living, dying, etc. etc. etc. Writing about anything, everything and everyone as the spirit leads. All meant to reveal, waken, revive, encourage, shame, help. Gladden, pick up, exalt, portrait, liberate. Again over 99% of my work is not about me. Although at times I write as though I were or am. Speaking e.g. in the first person. This is quite common even in the bible itself. Prophets speak of themselves, then God speaks, again the prophet, then God......Quite often it's difficult to distinguish whom it is that at any given time is speaking or narrating.

Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson

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