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Once I Was Young
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson

Once I Was Young

 

Once I was young full foolish pride

Arrogance streamed galore

Self was the king lust was my guide

Living as Satan’s whore

 

Wandering lost carousing blind

Hoping to satisfy

Yet nought, nor no-one could I find

To show me how and why

 

How much myself I tried to see

How often deep my thoughts

Yet always peace eluded me

Regardless where was sought

 

How come true happiness failed me?

Why joy was not for long

How in the world could I be free

To sing my victory song

 

Where could these eyes acquire sight?

How could healing be found?

What was power revealing light?

To show what had me bound

 

At first a thought, seemed quite absurd

What feelings could I feel?

Was any truth in what I’d heard?

Were God and Heaven Real?

 

Could there be salvation somewhere?

Was church the place for me?

Could cure be found within a prayer?

Simply on bended knee

 

Right there and then I sought release

To God I simply cried

Truly I found my inner peace

Once selfishness had died.....

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Submitted: Sunday, November 20, 2016

Last Updated: Sunday, November 20, 2016

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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