Wrote est 1996

This is a poem believe it or not, even though I really can't think of a word that will ryme through it all. So I just jot my lifes troubles down on paper, rather than to cry at times to just the four walls of my bed room.

Whether if I'm here or there, or just plain any where, there can always be a Godly expression of care. So why do I just cry to the dead sheet rock of the four walls, when I could have just cried out to my God so tall.

To think of him, to think of me, even of "We"ah, that's it! He'll see to it that we're happy some where. For my good intentions of my heart will only be a small part to make this poem shine down the line of life.

It's the final results that ultimatly count, for it's the final end results that must be achieved in everything that we do. Our good intentions is not enough to be a creative success, but the Lord our God will help us.