Too Far Gone to be Saved

Sometimes, we sin and feel too far gone to be saved,
Thoughts of being unworthy flood our souls like a mighty wave,
Thoughts of suicides become appealing rather than appalling,
We feel we are not good enough,
Not good enough to be saved...
Yes, I've felt that way,
I know that sickening feel in your tummy,
I know that feel of helplessness,
Because I've been there, I can relate,
I've fallen more times than I can count,
I won't put up the 'saint' display picture,
And act like it has always been fine,
Cos it hasn't.
Several times I've disappointed God;
He should just kill me and use better people,
I've even had the guts to tell Him that...
I know what it means to feel no one understands you,
I know how it feels to hold the secrets and pains on your inside,
Trying to cover it up with a smile,
While you're dying inside...
I've felt too far gone to be saved,
Not once, not twice...

But God, being so merciful beyond my comprehension keeps reminding me of His son's death,
I see the nail pierced hands,
And wish those were my hands,
So I could feel the same pain...but that wasn't His plan;
He died so I would live!
He loves me even though I'm unworthy.
Yes I'm not perfect, but for me the perfect one died, that I may be perfect.
Knowing God loves me is all I need to face the day...

To the teens, youths, and even adults who feel too far gone to be saved,
Turn around and see the Father's outstretched arms,
He's been waiting for you to come back,
He knows you're helpless and He wants to help you,
He wants to clean you up,
Give you a good bath in the tub of His son's blood,
He's got a new wardrobe for you, clothes of righteousness and holiness,
Above all, He'll give you life...real life,
This is because He loves you way too much to let you go.
Sweetheart, you're not too far gone to be saved.
Jesus loves you!

 -M.E

The Weeping Referee- Esosa

How would she define love?
Was all that I thought about...
Scattered and broken homes
was becoming rampant in the south.
 
I nicknamed her
a weeping referee
for the many battles she watched.
The house was the ring,
mum and dad were the fighters
and her morning chores
was to sit, cry and watch.
 
If love ever existed,
this was not it's address
and her clothes were always wet
from the tears that soaked her dress
 
Is there really a God?
If he lives, his eyes must be shut!
These were some of the thoughts I saw
as I lurked through her heavy head
 
The TV became her teacher
In it she saw people smile
Her iPod was her comforter
Music made her feel fine
 
It was as though
Bodiless armed men
Broke into the house
And stole her joy away
 
Her heart became a hospital
For the so many
Diseases she harboured
And depression was top on the list.
 
When I needed a sad poem
She was my inspiration.
Crazy thoughts began creeping in
And suicide was one of the options
 
But like the break of the morning
God is always on time
And for all your tears
He counted the drops
 
The truth is your stories of pain
Was only written in pencil
His love is an eraser
His grace would rewrite your chronicle
 
I know mum is gone
And dad is never home
But your real dad sits on a throne
And can make your house his home
 
So here is a reason to smile
A reason to hold on a little while.
The last time I checked,
You were the apple of his eyes.
 Written by Esosa (Iamthinkingpen)

Love Unquestioned by Luther King

I wouldn’t say I understand how it feels to have a father who always travels in the name of ‘work’, forgetting to play his most important role as a father, by spending time and caring for his family.

I wouldn’t say I understand how it is to have a mother who, from her children’s childhood, hired a strange woman to care for her children, whom they mistakenly called ‘mother’; while she focused on her business, neglecting her family.

I wouldn’t say I understand when you feel just alone at home as if you were the only child, when you actually have other siblings who care less about you and treat you as yet another person; and regarding friends over family.

I wouldn’t say I understand when you think you’re living the good life by having sex, going for ‘wild’ parties, overdozing on that stash and that alcohol with friends just to be on an ‘all-time’ high; and you do these in search of love and acceptance, and to take away the pain left in your by your family.

I lie if I say that I understand at all, but I do feel the emotions behind your story.

But one secret I understand is although you might have a dismantled story; but you’ve got the power in you to create a different life, in order to tell a different tale, when light illuminates your soul with unspeakably unhindered glory.

And that light of which I speak of is JESUS CHRIST!!!

Just like you, I faced my own unique challenges. But it doesn’t really matter how uniquely challenges leave us confused with common broken edges, JESUS is the only perfect piece that can complete the puzzle, give you a love-filled life with no hustle, heal your broken edges and solve your puzzled grudges. At least, he did for me, and I have been grateful ever since, and would continually be grateful for ages, because he turned around my story.

Embrace JESUS CHRIST today for an experience with love unquestioned, because there aint no better way to be loved than to be loved by your creator, and he has loved you ever since, and would continue to love you with no apologies.

My Unfailing Father- Hannah

Yesterday, on my way home
With a school bag shaped like a dome
The hot sun scorching my hair that hasn't for long seen a comb
I dragged my tender feet on with hesitating steps
But alas! I couldn't breathe the word "home'.

I had wanted to tell Mama about my luck
I passed Miss Feyi's arithmetic test
She announced in class that mine was the best
Even beating the brilliant Ojo the 'Duck' 

But she was always at a whimpering state
So I tiptoed to my room to bemoan my fate
Who is going to see that I know a tinnie winnie something?
That Papa doesn't have any idea that I know many things?

I barged straight into Papa's room
Flew on his disheveled bed with a zoom
Only to meet him snoring on his rickety chair
With some empty bottles around and not a care

Little James was in his dusty cradle
Along with father's bottle and mother's soup ladle
Screaming so loud I couldn't hear the whining on the television
I couldn't help but sigh at such a vision

I ran back to my room in a daze
Passed the corridor that always seem like a maze
Pressing my little six-year old palms together
And cried out to the One who Miss Tutu in Sunday school calls the Father

The One who listens to all my heart's cry
A Father who soothes me when I feel dry
Who could make Papa not to be so high
And silent little James to make not even a sigh

I prayed with all I cared about
Believing that He is my Father without a doubt
Even when my heart feels so hollow
I've found Someone who loves me and is there to follow

Written by Hannah

Baby Girl by Mfon

Her father walked away in the coldness of the night
She knew what he did wasn't right
He left her mother heartbroken and crying
After so many years of trying
Now baby girl is a teen 
And she doesn't know what love means
Out of sight is out of mind
He left her side now she has lost her mind
Her only father figure
Left a lot for her to figure
Momma hardly comes back home
When she does, she's troublesome
Yelling out curses like she writes in cursive
She's always on the street
Selling her body like its Wall Street
Smoking like she's a chimney
Leaving baby girl with a broken heart that can't be replaced like a kidney
She's battered like flour
Crying on the floor
Wondering like Stevie Wonders
Where is the love...
Baby girl, like an answering machine 
I have an answer
To all the questions left in voice mail
Yes there is love right here in scriptures
Painted in pictures
Male born of a female
Boy who became a man
He died so we could live
He lost so we could have
He was bruised
So we could cruise
He is love  personified
He is love identified
His love is unconditional
He doesn't go off like an air conditioner
He sees you as though he's a Seer
He seeks you like Legend of the Seeker
Let him be your pillow that you may cry on him
Let him be your tissue that he may dry your eyes
Let him be your Lord that he may take off your load
Dad must have been an ass
But Jesus triumphantly rode on an ass
So we could say alas!
His Love has come to last.

Written by God's property (Mfon)