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Edward Johnson Poem
As sure as the moon reflects the sun, there comes a critical time during every togetherness when some unforseen obstical challenges the strength and integrity of the tightest commitment, Where the unpredictable winds of fate blows so forceful, that it shakes a weary heart clear from it's axis, inspiring us to wonder, if saving such a relationship truly worth it, and of course, it usually is. It amazes
me how under the fleeting pressure of a pecieved danger most of us
are fast to abandon our brightest dreams or surrender our greatest
hopes without so much as a fight, merely because of some personal weakness, or mabe because we don't understand how the transcendence of struggle builds and fortisfy character, which by the way are the cornerstones to all things great. Conflict in the form of struggle is the yolk that God places upon mankind to test the human spirit, for it is the only way we can prove ourselves capable and worthy of recieving his greater blessings in this life. Now just imagine how much more easier everything would become if we all accepted this and also the simple fact that, life really does fall like the seasons, where the harsh difficulty of winter strengthen and conditions our appreciation for the easier warmth of spring and summertime. After all howelse would you know the sweetness of a peach or strawberry if you had'nt consumed a lemon or two. So the next time life deals you some hard and unexpected blow and you are almost afraid to take another step in the direction of love, remember all thats been said, but more than anythingelse remember, on this golden road called friendships, sometimes true friends stumble, fall and hur themselves as they struggle to hold hand in the common pursuit of a noble thing, but as to say to the world and themselves, no matter the obsticle or
difficulty that this life places before us surely they become twice as easy to navigate with the help of a friend.
Copyright © Edward Johnson | Year Posted 2005
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Edward Johnson Poem
Mothers that love us, women that want us and the kids that need us but, when will we show up. Late for the job that hired me, missed my daughters play so she fired me, never at home so my woman gets tired of me, but when will we show up. We help produce kids that we don't do a damn thing for, we just don't help with the bills no more, and it's been a long time since we turned the knob of a school door, but when will we show up. Fifty-fifty, no it's just fifty, the kids buck wild because the fathers are missing, you get real mad when theres no presents for christmas, but when will we show up.Instead of 9 to 5 you are doing a 5 to 10, a beer and a blunt to make the party begin, spending unecessary cash just to meet a new friend and nowhere to be found when responsibility set in, but when will we show up. It's a damn shame you call yourself a man, playing a game where you are your only fan and when hardships showed up you just ran, damn, when will we show up. What happen to the dreams we used to dream about, what happen to the times we used to want alot and remember a smile from your kids used to hit the spot but I guess you forgot.... so it's time to show up.
Copyright © Edward Johnson | Year Posted 2005
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Edward Johnson Poem
What is love, What is love I'm trying to figure out this thing that they call love. I know it's not in my refrigerator, the last time I checked it was only ice cubes in it. I heard my girl mention something about love last night when she was with me, but today I seen her around the corner with this other guy so I guess they are trying to figure out this thing that they call love also. I heard my mother managing to say between the blows of my father, that she still loved the chump. And when I did something bad my mother beat me terribly and said, son I only do this because I love you, and as I think about it I'm starting not to like this thing that they call love. But I hear that theres some good love, some true love and some real love, but how do I find it, and as I stand in this long line looking for it, I'm sure they are going to run out, and if they do I am going to stay in this line because I hear they are giving out hate next and I want to be the first one to get it
SIGNED
The abused child
Copyright © Edward Johnson | Year Posted 2005
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Edward Johnson Poem
Theres many people in this fantisy, but they can't see what you mean to me, Our hearts are joined in unity as we race with haste to loves destiny. You hold the key to my inner mystery, you heal my wounds like
herbal, your essence inside keep calling me, I praise you lord my thanks to thee you have sent me some one who makes my life complete
Copyright © Edward Johnson | Year Posted 2005
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