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Tuesday, October 4, 2011

IS THERE STILL HOPE?

She was only fifteen when she had her first child,
She couldn't even tell who the father was,
'Cause there were so many people involved, so many possible fathers,
She had to drop out of school, while her mates continued to college,
But she was once the brightest kid on the block, the first to answer the toughest questions in class,
She had a bright future, she wanted to be Lawyer, an Engineer, a doctor or the first female president,
But somewhere along the way, she was deceived, lied to and lured into a life of promiscuity,
So now she sits up on her bed every night, staring at her son while he sleeps,
And as tears roll down her cheeks, somewhere in the recess of her mind,
She could hear the question which begs so loudly to be answered,
Is there still hope for someone like me?

He was voted most likely to make it in life,
He was the son every mother wanted, the pride of his father,
As long as he was concerned, the top was where he was meant to be,
And he was ready to work hard to make it there,
Everyone thought he had his life all figured out; success can never possibly by pass him,
But somewhere along the line, he was deceived, lied to and lured into life on the fast lane,
Someone told him, "four years in college is a waste of time, when a job is not assured,
So forget school and chase that green, hustle your way through and make that cheddar,
You can even be a rapper, a gangsta rapper, like that brother named, "what you call him?" topping the charts,"
He listened, and today with a murder case, a drug case, and three women waiting for him to come be a father to their kids,
He sits behind the bars of the cold, mean prison rooms, weeping over his life, wondering how he got here,
And somewhere in the corners of his mind, he hears this question, so loud and clear,
Is there still hope for someone like me?

Well, as much as I know, the downfall of a man is not the end of his life,
Failure is not falling down, but refusing to rise up after falling down,
And in the midst of that broken life which you consider throwing to the winds,
I want you to know that there is still hope for you if only you can look up to Jesus, the hope of the hopeless,
First forgive yourself, put the past in its rightful place: behind you, look for some good in the bad of your life,
Trust God for a better and brighter future, try not to make the same mistakes again, go back to the shelves and revive those broken dreams, try living them and watch yourself sail to the top-where you belong.
Peace.

TO BE FREE

She wanted to come home when she pleased,
Go out with whomever she likes,
Get her groove on whenever she wanted,
She wanted to do whatever she wanted, without scruples,
As far as she was concerned that was what it meant to be free,

He wanted to be the ladies man,
The hustler, the party-rider, the "it" guy,
He wanted to smoke that and this and see what it felt like,
He wanted to drink that and this and know what it tasted like,
He wanted to be able to have someone different, every night, to keep him warm,
As long as he was concerned that was what it meant to be free,

Fast-forward, a couple of years later,
She can't get her life together; every man on the block knows the color of her sheets,
She is all over the place, her life is all over the place,
She now needs rehab to get out of that which she called "being free, living my life,"
Now he can no longer control his urges,
He is addicted to the bottle, inseparable from the pipes, acquainted with the grasses,
The therapist has become his very close friend,
But he was just living his life, being free,
So I ask, is this what being free means?
Is this what living my life really entails?
If the freedom of the world will lead me to a life which I struggle to get out off,
I rather be a slave to Jesus Christ, doing His will alone, 'cause therein lies true freedom,
I guess all I'm saying is, let us really examine what we call freedom.