Submit a Poem
Get Your Premium Membership
spacer
 

Who we become

Timmie Kreth Avatar    Block poet from commenting on your poetry

Below is the poem entitled Who we become which was written by poet Timmie Kreth. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.

Read Poems by Timmie Kreth

Best Timmie Kreth Poems

+ Fav Poet

Who we become

I'm a poet of life, so read if you 
dare. But let me forewarn you, 
you're in for a scare. 
   For I don't see life, for the 
light it portrays. I see life in the 
dark, and the lives it betrays. 
   In the shadows lurk demons, 
and creatures so cold. Their 
deeds have been hidden, their 
stories untold. 
   They work with great force, 
tearing out heart and soul. 
Once they've torn you apart, 
you become a dark hole. 
   Choking the world, deep 
down in your chamber. Pulling 
lives in, to drown in your anger. 
   I'll show you the depths, of 
your hurt and your sorrow. And 
drown out all hopes, for a 
better tomorrow. 
   Cause this world isn't 
rainbows, sunshine and 
butterflies. It's cruelty and 
beasts, darkness and lies. 
   So continue the path, that 
you're so blindly walking. For 
ignorance is bliss, and there's 
no use in gawking. 
   But once at the end, of your 
sick twisted trail. You'll find 
you've grown weak, corrupted 
and frail. 
   And then in that moment, 
you're mine for the taking. As 
fear settles in, your bones 
begin shaking. 
   I'll show you no mercy, for 
my heart's cold and gritty. 
Though caring and kind, I'm 
void of all pity. 
   I've grown harsh and 
abrasive, in the years that have 
past. And do all that I can, to 
ensure I laugh last. 
   I won't let this world, bring 
me down to its level. I'll never 
succumb, or give in to the 
Devil. 
   Corruption surrounds me, I 
walk a thin line. Between 
righteous and evil, but I'm 
doing just fine. 
   I hold strong to my faith, as I 
punish the wicked. I unleash all 
my anger, on the damned and 
convicted. 
   In these dark times it is hard, 
to define what is right. But my 
only intention, is to fight the 
good fight. 
   It's not that I want, to send 
others to hell. I just want to 
ensure, that our future sits 
well. 
   So my hands stained with 
blood, drag me through each 
cold day. And my boots caked 
with mud, stomp them down, 
where they lay. 
   While they gaze up upon me, 
as their heart slowly dies. I sit 
patiently waiting, 'til the light 
leaves their eyes. 
   Then I assure them, that 
they'll soon find their place. If 
God grants them mercy, they'll 
be saved by grace. 
   For this life my dear friends, 
is a gauntlet we run. And we're 
all lost and roaming, beneath 
the great sun. 
   But remember that God, 
cares not what you've done. So 
long as good deeds, shape who 
you become...

Post Comments

Please Login to post a comment



A comment has not been posted for this poem. Be the first to comment.