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A troubled soul he was, for stress took the best of his qualities that made people feel for him
Disowned by his parents at a very young age
Truly a lost soul, with no direction what so ever, an actor he was, as life itself is a stage
Selfish to his own shadow, he believed he needed no one, for there was light in him even if it dimmed

An extrovert soul he was, for he made friends just by a simple smile
A leader, ideas in him were ugliness and yes, they were respected
His speech, where to begin, he had the tone to move even stone, his ideas it protected
A dreamer just like most of the world, he knew of God, yet he didn't follow Gods word

His mind spoke, and spoke it did
A fear in him always remembered him that God was watching his every verse
And from it, with a sad face he did try to hide, little did he know that from God not a thought is hid
Knowing of Him and idly standing by far is worse

Strong firm eyes, color of brown they saw into many other souls and weary minds
His eyes resemble that of a bursting star, expanding in vortex towards the outside
Firm ears, a bit pointy in a way he heard very well, from trains to thoughts themselves
Young and goal oriented he went about his life for the first twenty years, he walked lost, and with pride

The hands of time slapped him again and again but he didn't awake
The enemy had strong grasp of him, a soul that would not be easy to take
He wrote of wars, ugliness in the world, death her self starred in his work
Dark truly he was, for the thoughts that roamed in his humble mind, were not so good

Brown hair, wavy and somewhat long, short he kept most of the time
He wrote of his people and of his well doing, yet never of God
For God gave him the power of speech and rhyme
Yet always he bit into the cast of evils rod

A light came unto his serious face, love left him to wonder in search of joy
Away she stood, and he feeling empty searched for answers, to adulthood and to his infancy in a toy
Who was he? Why did he have to try so hard to fit in? Of his sin
He yearned to be loved and to love, but only God can fill that empty soul of his

He wrote and wrote until his pen dried
Inkless his pen fell
He wept and wept until his soul to cried
Along his shadows side he died





- a dark soul I used to be, in denial I was
Jesus is my king, he lifted me up from the dead
Born again as Jeremiah, I was told in a dream
I am no different that anyone else, He loves me too
Seek Him, for He is LOVE.
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