Before you read this poem, if you want take the time and listen to this original song I wrote. The music was by Eddie Coronado, a man who would have done a much better job singing, but I wanted to sing it because this was ten years ago, and I wanted desperately to know God. I didn’t want to know Man’s God, I wanted the TRUTH, I wanted to be set free, and you can hear that in my voice eight years ago. Well the good news is God delivered and each day I learn more and let go of more, and now I am so grateful for where I am, because you can hear in this song, where spiritually I was. Enjoy “NEW MAN” and then enjoy “CRY, CRY” A poem I wrote awhile ago after looking at a group of people who I knew hadn’t been blessed with what I had been blessed with.
CLICK to listen to “NEW MAN”
CRY, CRY – a poem
Cry, Cry my precious child.
The labor was long and hard, but mild, compared to what will follow.
Giants surround you, madness in your ear
The warmth of yesterday gone, it is cold, cold in the delivery room of this world out here.
Helpless, hopeless, a new name whispered in your ear.
Chains will soon hold you, others words, thoughts and fears.
Cry, cry my precious child the beginning of your suffering is here.
Crawl, and eat, stomp your feet, no one understands you and no one ever will.
Learn your words, mind your tongue, make the grade, play with guns, call it fun, war and prejudice, and mocking hate, is what the animals are after.
Red and blue, never pink, wear what you are told boy, never think.
Do as I say, not as I do, watch me, learn from me, be as lost as I am too.
Cry, cry my precious child you have forgotten who are.
Dust, dust at your feet, lies, imagination, with a smile you greet.
My name is so and so, that is who I am.
I am rich, I am poor, I am insecure.
I am the past, not the first or the last.
I am my pain, hear me complain, I am all my want for more.
Cry, cry my precious child, be what the world wants you to be,
A rebel, a lawyer, a doctor, but never free.
Can’t you see, if only you have what others have, if only you were he or she, then you’d be happy, the very thing you pretend to be.
They will promise no more pain, no more worry or dread. They will say, each and every day, “If you only be, or do, what others have said then you’ll be alive for the first time, not pretending to be alive while wanting to be dead.”
Cry, cry my pressure child, welcome to world of the fallen.
Bills no thrills, debt, forget, all your hopes and dreams.
Glimpses of beauty and peace surrounded by all the filth you see.
Always looking, hungry still, nothing in this world seems to fill, the void in your heart empty until, you understand that you were never broken.
Cry, cry my precious child for this you were born, only to die.
Flower of field, tender, mild, whose beauty only lasts for a moment.
The weeds of deeds, strangled with greed, the need to feed those who lead all the ignorant passengers down the path to destruction.
They’ll say, “Get in line, mind your time, soon you’ll retire fat and fine and your life will be forgotten.”
Cry, cry my precious child, silence the rumble jumble of your mind, listen to your father’s instruction.
You can change, rearrange, you can build, tear down, go where you want to go.
You’re in control, that’s your role, but few will find this I know.
Few understand you reap what you sow. Few will learn that their pain is there to help them grow, as the flowers are helped by the manure you throw.
This is why… we all cry… when we are born not when we die.
Because we fear, the truth of who we are, the TRUTH we hold so dear, will be forgotten for the lie.
So if you have ears to hear, or eyes to see. Remember the next time you cry that you can be free.
Without the darkness you’d would never leave it for the LIGHT.
The Caterpillar doesn’t become the butterfly without the fight.
The hope is within you, it isn’t coming from far away as some would say, your faith should not be in anything outside.
So this is why you need not cry, because the Hope of Glory is Christ Inside.
You forgot this the moment you died in that delivery room when you first cried.