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Who's Rich Who's Poor.....
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson

 

Who's Rich Wh's Poor

 

The rich are those who have to eat

Enough to throw away

With cars, TVs, all sorts of meat

To please stomachs each day

 

Free range eggs, chicken, lean steaks

Fresh vegetables and fish,

Chocolate gateau whipped cream cakes

And soup to fill each dish 

 

So eat the rich in flourishing lands

Filling bellies of man

But who today yet understands

It’s not our Father’s plan

 

While hungry live most our neighbours

A stench to God on high

So little fruit bear their labours

Their children starve and die

 

The rich have goods, enough to give

Great mountains of butter

While the poor seeking to live

Survive in a gutter

 

In tents, cabins in huts on pillars

Grateful to lay their heads

While palace houses and villas

The rich enjoy their beds

 

How my friend do you sleep at night?

How do you spend your day?

Do you for food have need to fight?

Or money enough to pay

 

So many remain without a thing

Suffering torment and pain

Abundantly still to God they sing

Knowing its not in vain……

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Submitted: Monday, March 20, 2017

Last Updated: Monday, March 20, 2017

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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