J32 The Parables 5
“I’m going out, Father,
Give me my property-share,
For I wish to seek my fortune
Abroad, ” said his second son.
His property, he sold
For a value in gold,
And took his journey
Into a far away country
All his gold had been spent.
He was thrown in wants,
With his riotous living
And no support coming.
His search for job went in vain
As a servant, he fed swine.
The swine’s husk food, he ate,
In repentance, he cursed his fate.
He recalled those days bygone,
When his servants, one by one,
Stood before him with folded hands
And obeyed all his commands.
Realizing his sin against heaven,
He wished to go back again
As a servant, not as a son,
And seek his father’s pardon,
As he went out in quarrel,
He now lost his rights moral
So, he went to the farmhouse
To be a servant of that house.
Seeing his homecoming,
His father went running.
He hugged him tightly
And kissed him fondly.
”I’ve sinned against Heaven,
I’m unworthy to be your son.
Forgive my sin, ” cried the son,
“As a servant please take me in.”
His words, father ignored
And orders then he issued
“Give my son the best robes,
A gold ring and new shoes.”
For him, he held a grand feast,
And a calf cooked, the one fattest,
Everyone enjoyed the treat,
And said that was the one finest.
“A dead son came alive again.
He was lost and found again.”
Like this, he welcomed his son,
Whose love again he had won.
When the elder son came,
His servant then told him
Everything that happened,
On which, he became displeased.
In anger, he stood outside,
And refused to come inside.
He said, “I’m a loyal son, yet a feast,
Similar one, I never had in the past.”
“My son, with me you stayed long,
All that’s mine, to you they belong.
My dead son has come now.
My lost son is found now.”
“You join us in this grand meet
You give him this welcome-treat,
Let us forgive and forget
What he did, as he knew not.”
poem by Simple Simon
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Related quotes
The Prodigal Son
Afflictions, though they seem severe;
In mercy oft are sent;
They stopped the prodigal's career,
And forced him to repent.
Although he no relentings felt
Till he had spent his store;
His stubborn heart began to melt
When famine pinched him sore.
What have I gained by sin, he said,
But hunger, shame, and fear;
My father's house abounds with bread,
While I am starving here.
I'll go, and tell him all I've done,
And fall before his face
Unworthy to be called his son,
I'll seek a servant's place.
His father saw him coming back,
He saw, and ran, and smiled;
And threw his arms around the neck
Of his rebellious child.
Father, I've sinned - but O forgive!
I've heard enough, he said,
Rejoice my house, my son's alive,
For whom I mourned as dead.
Now let the fatted calf be slain,
And spread the news around;
My son was dead, but lives again,
Was lost, but now is found.
'Tis thus the Lord his love reveals,
To call poor sinners home;
More than a father's love he feels,
And welcomes all that come.
poem by John Newton
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Going Home
Everyday the father longed to see
His lost son come back to the family
Looking out his heart would yearn
hoping each day his son would return
For the son had taken his inheritance
and left without a backward glance
To spend his great fortune having fun
was the intention of this youngest son
Wasting his time in riotous revelry
Living a life of sin and debauchery
Gained many friends through his wealth
Sang and danced and enjoyed himself
But then the time came to his dismay
when his money began to drain away
Then all his friends left him alone
To cope with life all on his own
Then a severe famine came his way
and he took a job to survive each day
Feeding the swine he wanted to fill
His empty stomach with the pig swill
Cold and miserable and full of dismay
He thought of his family so far away
'Here I am starving to death, ' he said
'Whilst my fathers servants still have bread'
So off he went this Prodigal Son
Famished, penniless and all alone
But the father saw him far away
and ran to meet him on the way
It brought to the father such delight
To see this great heart warming sight
For all the time the son had been away
The father looked out for him each day
'Father I've sinned and don't deserve
To be your son so I've come to serve
Forgive me and take me on I pray
To be your hired servant from this day'
'Kill the fatted calf and let us celebrate'
The father said because the news was great
'For my son has returned from the dead
Clothe him with the best robe, ' he said
But his brother could not understand
The reason why the party was so grand
'Father I've always been good, ' he said
'Why didn't you give me a party instead'
'Son all that I have belongs to you
You could have one when you wanted to
But this is my son who once was dead
and has now returned to me, ' he said
This wonderful parable that Jesus told
Speaks of a son returning to the fold
I too was just like that prodigal child
So lost and helpless and all beguiled
Then I went to the cross of the crucified
where Jesus greeted me arms opened wide
By His shed blood removed my disgrace
and held me in His loving embrace
Today... 'Holy Servant
Oh Holy Servant of God
The pathways of earth You trod
walked with mankind healing the blind
Oh Holy Servant of God
Oh Holy Servant of God
the hill of Calvary You trod
and from that cross You saved the lost
Oh Holy Servant of God
Oh Holy Servant of God
all the way to the grave You trod
and from that grave reached out to save
Oh Holy Servant of God
(see also the additional information in the Poet's notes box below)
The Prodigal Son
Young man—
Young man—
Your arm’s too short to box with God.
But Jesus spake in a parable, and he said:
A certain man had two sons.
Jesus didn’t give this man a name,
But his name is God Almighty.
And Jesus didn’t call these sons by name,
But ev’ry young man,
Ev’rywhere,
Is one of these two sons.
And the younger son said to his father,
He said: Father, divide up the property,
And give me my portion now.
And the father with tears in his eyes said: Son,
Don’t leave your father’s house.
But the boy was stubborn in his head,
And haughty in his heart,
And he took his share of his father’s goods,
And went into a far-off country.
There comes a time,
There comes a time
When ev’ry young man looks out from his father’s house,
Longing for that far-off country.
And the young man journeyed on his way,
And he said to himself as he travelled along:
This sure is an easy road,
Nothing like the rough furrows behind my father’s plow.
Young man—
Young man—
Smooth and easy is the road
That leads to hell and destruction.
Down grade all the way,
The further you travel, the faster you go.
No need to trudge and sweat and toil,
Just slip and slide and slip and slide
Till you bang up against hell’s iron gate.
And the younger son kept travelling along,
Till at night-time he came to a city.
And the city was bright in the night-time like day,
The streets all crowded with people,
Brass bands and string bands a-playing,
And ev’rywhere the young man turned
There was singing and laughing and dancing.
And he stopped a passer-by and he said:
Tell me what city is this?
And the passer-by laughed and said: Don’t you know?
This is Babylon, Babylon,
That great city of Babylon.
Come on, my friend, and go along with me.
And the young man joined the crowd.
Young man—
Young man—
You’re never lonesome in Babylon.
You can always join a crowd in Babylon.
Young man—
Young man—
You can never be alone in Babylon,
Alone with your Jesus in Babylon.
You can never find a place, a lonesome place,
A lonesome place to go down on your knees,
And talk with your God, in Babylon.
You’re always in a crowd in Babylon.
And the young man went with his new-found friend,
And bought himself some brand new clothes,
And he spent his days in the drinking dens,
Swallowing the fires of hell.
And he spent his nights in the gambling dens,
Throwing dice with the devil for his soul.
And he met up with the women of Babylon.
Oh, the women of Babylon!
Dressed in yellow and purple and scarlet,
Loaded with rings and earrings and bracelets,
Their lips like a honeycomb dripping with honey,
Perfumed and sweet-smelling like a jasmine flower;
And the jasmine smell of the Babylon women
Got in his nostrils and went to his head,
And he wasted his substance in riotous living,
In the evening, in the black and dark of night,
With the sweet-sinning women of Babylon.
And they stripped him of his money,
And they stripped him of his clothes,
And they left him broke and ragged
In the streets of Babylon.
Then the young man joined another crowd—
The beggars and lepers of Babylon.
And he went to feeding swine,
And he was hungrier than the hogs;
He got down on his belly in the mire and mud
And ate the husks with the hogs.
And not a hog was too low to turn up his nose
At the man in the mire of Babylon.
Then the young man came to himself—
He came to himself and said:
In my father’s house are many mansions,
Ev’ry servant in his house has bread to eat,
Ev’ry servant in his house has a place to sleep;
I will arise and go to my father.
And his father saw him afar off,
And he ran up the road to meet him.
He put clean clothes upon his back,
And a golden chain around his neck,
He made a feast and killed the fatted calf,
And invited the neighbors in.
Oh-o-oh, sinner,
When you’re mingling with the crowd in Babylon—
Drinking the wine of Babylon—
Running with the women of Babylon—
You forget about God, and you laugh at Death.
Today you’ve got the strength of a bull in your neck
And the strength of a bear in your arms,
But some o’ these days, some o’ these days,
You’ll have a hand-to-hand struggle with bony Death,
And Death is bound to win.
Young man, come away from Babylon,
That hell-border city of Babylon.
Leave the dancing and gambling of Babylon,
The wine and whiskey of Babylon,
The hot-mouthed women of Babylon;
Fall down on your knees,
And say in your heart:
I will arise and go to my Father.
poem by James Weldon Johnson
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I Am A Civil Servant
I am a civil servant
That's not my real name
I am a baptised civil servant
This name puts bread on my table
I am a civil servant
Codified to obey a set of rules
Straight-jacketed to obey my masters
For a monthly stipend as a reward
I am a civil servant
Ordained to oil the engine of politicians
Who lords their policies on me
To serve like a chef at a banquet
I am a civil servant
My sobriquet is a bureaucrat
I am constantly accused of red-tapism
'Cos of my insistence on procedures
I am a civil servant indeed
My masters blame me for any misdemeanor
My people accuses me of collusion
I am just a scape goat at both ends
I am a civil servant par excellence
I am just a loyal and dutiful citizen
No nation can survive without me
Yet I am hardly appreciated
I am seen as rodent in a farmland
I am always available to serve my country
I am ready to serve the political divides
I am an uunbiased umpire
Soldier go, soldier come
The barrack is immovable
I am a loyal civil servant
Used like fresh rain water in the morning
Thrown away as dirty water at night
Condemned to paltry periodical pension
To survive for the rest of my life
That's my reward for being a loyal servant
poem by Babatunde Aremu
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Mystics
I'm your son as it's written,
I seek answers to know why they killed your son though there ain't no answers but various reasons.
Dear forgive me for not believing your existence,
Though there are various reasons spoken I some how refus to listen to,
Am I making a mistake by not fully taking your ways as i'm being told by your fellowship.
Dear did you have a greatest servant who later thought he had power to rule heaven and you sent him rule to rule earth, and soon sent your son knowing he'll be crucified for my sins, those are my questions to you father,
I'm told I shall fear you though i'm confused why because you are my creater, the creater of heaven and earth now why shall I fear you father.
poem by Sefofane Shabalala
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An offensive war, I believe to be wrong and would therefore have nothing to do with it, having no right to meddle with another man's property, his ox or his ass, his man servant or his maid servant or anything this is his.
quote by Daniel Morgan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Other Brother
It was a hot day in the field
when, returning at last
bone-tired, sore from
tending your stiff-necked flock,
I saw bonfires,
extravagant blazes lighting
the way to our house,
but not for me
home late from
work,
so I asked your servant
“why such celebration? ”
That’s when my anger exploded;
…poor fellow, he bore my rage
and yelping away
cried it wasn’t his fault!
No, it wasn’t.
It isn’t.
It’s You.
You ask me to obey
and obediently I honor you every day.
With sweat and callused hands,
I cajole this stingy land
to give up a little wheat.
With my blood
I water these fields;
but when I wanted to show
my friends a little generosity,
I asked you for a stingy goat,
a meager feast, and
you said “no.”
So here he is, come home at last,
profligate brother…prodigal,
wastrel, drunkard,
sinner!
He’s back
and suddenly the prize calf
I worked so hard to make so fat is slain,
a royal feast for your favorite son
(though somewhat late) come home again!
But,
as always
my anger fades
in the glow of your summer love.
I don’t like this!
but you tell me
that your love does not diminish
but increases with the giving…
and, after all,
it is not every day that one’s brother
is to life recalled.
So for you, Father,
I’ll look him in the eye
and let him back
into my life.
poem by Steven Federle
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Hymn 123
The repenting prodigal.
Luke 15:13,etc.
Behold the wretch whose lust and wine
Had wasted his estate,
He begs a share among the swine,
To taste the husks they eat!
"I die with hunger here," he cries,
"I starve in foreign lands;
My father's house has large supplies
And bounteous are his hands.
"I'll go, and with a mournful tongue
Fall down before his face,-
Father, I've done thy justice wrong,
Nor can deserve thy grace."
He said, and hastened to his home,
To seek his father's love;
The father saw the rebel come,
And all his bowels move.
He ran, and fell upon his neck,
Embraced and kissed his son;
The rebel's heart with sorrow brake
For follies he had done.
"Take off his clothes of shame and sin,"
The father gives command,
"Dress him in garments white and clean,
With rings adorn his hand.
"A day of feasting I ordain,
Let mirth and joy abound;
My son was dead, and lives again,
Was lost, and now is found."
poem by Isaac Watts
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Lviii
I thy servant, and to thy servant born
I speak of fathers who stick to their deeds
To guide their children through a field of thorns
This I pray is the father’s only creeds
To love and protect, to guild by God
To teach thee the way of the holy Lord
To shine his light upon every done fraud
To praise him with every award
I am a father, to a father born and
Pledge my life to thee, my only true song
I am my brother’s keeper, love in hand
Never shall I accuse a man done wrong
My wife, my children, my Lord praised
My God, my family to thee I pay.
poem by David E. Patton
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As It Is In Heaven
Lyrics: traditional
Music: michael w. smith
Our father, which art in heaven
Hallowed be thy name
Our father, which art in heaven
Hallowed be thy name
Thy kingdom come
Thy will be done
On earth as it is in heaven
Our father, which art in heaven
Hallowed be thy name
Hallowed be thy name
Our father, which art in heaven
Our father
Hallowed be thy name
Hallowed be thy name
Thy kingdom come
Thy will be done
On earth as it is in heaven
Give us this day
Our daily bread
And forgive us our debts
As we forgive our debtors
Our father, which art in heaven
Hallowed be thy name
Our father, which art in heaven
Hallowed be thy name
And lead us not into temptation
But deliver us, deliver us from evil
For thine is the kingdom, and all the power
And the glory
Forever amen
Our father, which art in heaven
Hallowed be thy name
Thy kingdom come
Thy will be done
On earth as it is in heaven
song performed by by Michael W. Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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God Servant
temple free
god was waiting
for is servant
servant was
not come
god also sad...
servant will bee comes
good happy...
why...?
god only no
i don't no
YOU no...
tell me to god
and me...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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From the diary of a Dowager
She is still smart in her forties and lives in her manor childless.
The land, poultry, vineyard and the whole wealth,
She holds from her deceased husband.
The old parents and the servants lived together.
Her brother-in-law, husband's elder brother
Who was a retired war veteran a senile lives behind the manor in the old haystack.
She doesn't like to marry again and refused all the proposals the parents brought.
'I live my entire life in single' She grumbled.
The classical music gives her courage to pass the time.
Her senile brother-in-law who died in sleep and they buried him near by the haystack.
Exactly after a fortnight of the funeral the complaint was made by a servant that she was pregnant by the deceased Master.
The lady was shocked and she is very kind and promised the servant to adopt the child after the birth.
She adopts the servant's beautiful daughter.
And the servant took hands the old Gardner?
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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A servant of God has but one Master. It ill becomes the servant to seek to be rich, and great, and honored in that world where his Lord was poor, and mean, and despised.
quote by George Muller
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Heaven Is Open
heaven is open to every one
sinner, cursed, those lucks blessings
father calling you in heaven came all
he guide us by his holy spirit
he gently calls you into your presence
held you in his hand, crafted into your perfect plan
let us stop sinning for our father in heaven
he will restore this world into paradise
and let every one knows that there is only father in heaven
father forgive us in this world we are in
poem by Ahmed Kakembo
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Bible in Poetry: Gospel of St. Matthew (Chapter 8)
When Jesus came down from the mountain-side,
A great crowd followed Him, leper beside;
The leper paid Him homage and begged, ‘Lord,
‘If you so wish, you can make me too, clean! ’
So, Jesus stretched His hand out and touched him
And replied, ‘I’ll do it. You be made clean.’
His leprosy had vanished immediately.
Then Jesus told him, ‘See that you tell none.
Go show the priest that you are fully cleansed.
As proof, you offer Moses’ prescribed gift.’
When Jesus entered Capernaum, there came
A centurion who approached Him and said,
‘My servant lies at home Lord, paralyzed,
For days, he’s suffering most dreadfully.’
Then Jesus told him, ‘I’ll come home and cure.’
The centurion replied, ‘O Lord, I am
Not worthy to have you under my roof,
Just say the word, my servant will be healed.’
‘For, I’m a person with authority,
With soldiers many under my command;
I say to one, ‘Go, ’ and he goes at once;
I order another, ‘Come here, he comes;
And to my slave, I say, ‘Do this, he does.’
When Jesus heard this, He was so amazed.
He said to those who followed Him, ‘Amen,
I say to you, in Israel, none I’ve seen,
With faith so strong as this centurion’s.’
‘Many will come from east and west, I say
To sit with Abraham, Jacob, Isaac,
At the banquet in kingdom of heaven,
But the kingdom’s children will be driven,
Out in the darkness where there will be much
Wailing and grinding and gnashing of teeth.’
Then Jesus told centurion, ‘You may go,
Let it be done for you as you’ve believed.’
That very hour, his servant got well healed.
Then Jesus went to Peter’s house and saw
His mother-in-law in bed with fever;
He touched her hand and fever left at once;
She rose and waited upon Him that day!
By evening time, they brought to Him many
Who were by demons, spirits too possessed;
He drove the spirits out by simple words,
And cured the sick and suffering who came.
Thus, Isaiah, the prophet’s words came true:
‘He took our infirmities, diseases.’
When Jesus saw a crowd large, surround Him,
He gave orders to cross to other side.
A scribe approached and said to Him, ‘Teacher,
I’ll follow you wherever, you may go.’
And Jesus answered him, ‘Foxes have holes;
Birds of the sky have nests but Son of Man,
Has not a place on earth, to rest His head.’
One of his disciples said, ‘Lord, let me
Go first bury my father who is dead.’
But Jesus ordered him, ‘Just follow me.
Let dead bury their own dead by themselves.’
Then Jesus and disciples went by boat.
A violent storm then brewed upon the sea;
The boat was hit by waves, He lay asleep;
They came and woke Him saying, ‘Lord, save us!
For, we’re perishing in the stormy sea.’
He asked them, ‘Why are you so terrified?
You ones of little faith! He then got up.
He chided winds and sea and there was calm.
The surprised men then asked, ‘What sort of man
Is this whom winds and seas also obey? ’
They came to other side called Gadarenes;
Two savage demoniacs from tombs met Him.
No one could dare to travel by that road.
On seeing Jesus, they cried, ‘Son of God,
Why have you come into our habitat?
Do you then come to torment us early? ’
A herd of swine was feeding near-by there.
The demons pleaded, ’If you drive us out,
Then, permit us to enter the swine herd.’
Then Jesus said, ‘Go then, and they came out!
The demons went into the swine near-by;
The whole herd rushed down-slope, the steep bank-side
And fell into the sea and were all drowned.’
The swine-herds ran away to town and told
All that had happened to demoniacs.
The townspeople then came to meet Jesus.
They begged Him leave their place immediately!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 5-30-2007
poem by John Celes
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Father In Need Of A Son Complex
I don't need your protection.
You are not my father.
You have what I call the father in need of a son complex.
You want me to be part of your family.
Yet I still barely know you.
Even with all the gifts you have given.
I far from ask for them.
A donation should always be kept anonymous for this reason.
Creating fictional debt is all in ones head.
Nothing legally binding.
Yet I'm suppose to allow you do as you please on my property.
I think not.
The way you treat me can be quite offensive.
Like I owe my life as daily servant.
You want to do as you ask with out question.
You make decisions for me way too fast.
It will eventually bite you on the rump, bumpy bump.
For soon or later one of decision your happily making.
Will be completely rejected.
And you will be stuck with whatever it is.
And I really don't care if you were intoxicated.
And I don't want your million apologies or excuse for acting like a jerk.
I could say it in other not so nice verbal slurs.
But why make it any worse.
I'm not your son, just get over it.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bible in Poetry: Gospel of St. Matthew (Chapter 25)
‘The Heaven’s kingdom is like ten
Virgins, who took their lamps to meet,
The bridegroom in his wedding feast;
Five were foolish but five were wise.’
‘The foolish ones went with their lamps,
Which had no oil in them at all;
The wise ones also took their lamps,
Along with oil to use in flasks.’
‘The bridegroom came a bit delayed;
The virgins felt drowsy and slept;
A cry was heard at midnight loud,
‘Behold, the bridegroom comes, meet Him! ’
The virgins woke and trimmed their lamps;
The foolish ones then asked the wise,
‘Spare us some oil to keep lamps on.’
The wise ones then replied, ‘Sorry,
We need the oil for our own lamps;
It may not be enough for both;
Go to the merchant shop and buy.’
While foolish virgins went to buy,
The bridegroom came during that time;
The ones ready, accompanied him;
The wedding hall’s door was then locked.’
The other virgins then arrived;
They cried, ‘Lord, Lord, open the door! ’
The bridegroom but replied, ‘Amen,
I say to you, I know you not! ’
‘So, stay awake for, you know not
The day, nor hour when bridegroom comes! ’
‘A man who went on a journey,
To all his servants, gave money,
As per each one’s ability.’
‘He gave five talents to the first;
Two talents to the servant next;
One talent only, to the last,
And went away immediately! ’
‘The one who got five talents made,
Another five talents by trade;
The one who had two talents too
Likewise had made another two;
The one with just one talent dug
A hole to bury it in ground.’
A long time passed; the master came
To settle accounts with servants;
He told the first who’d made five more,
‘Well done my faithful servant good;
I’ll give you better jobs to do;
Come share your master’s joy, rejoice! ’
‘He said the same to the second;
The one who got just one talent
Said, ‘Master, I know you too well.
You are a demanding person:
Harvesting where you did not plant,
Gathering when you didn’t scatter.
So, out of fear, I dug a hole
And buried it quite safely whole
Here is your talent you gave me.’
His master then replied to him,
‘You wicked, lazy servant, Oh!
Your master, when you knew so well,
Why didn’t you in a bank, put it,
So that the interest, I could get? ’
‘He took the talent from this one
And gave it to the one with ten;
The one who labors will get more;
The one with less will be made poor!
He ordered then, the lazy one,
Into the darkness, to be thrown,
Where people wail and always groan! ’
‘When Son of Man in glory comes,
His angels will surround Him then,
And He will sit in His great throne!
All nations will stand before Him,
He’ll separate one from the next,
Like shepherd does with sheep and goats.’
‘He’ll place his sheep onto His right
And place the goats onto his left;
To those on right, the king will say,
‘Ye, blessed by my Father, come,
Into the kingdom made for you,
From the beginning of the world! ’
‘For, I was hungry, you gave food;
And I was thirsty, you gave drink;
I was a stranger, you welcomed;
I lay naked and me, you clothed;
When I was ill, for me, you cared;
When in prison, visit, you paid.’
The righteous then will ask the Lord,
‘When did we feed you while hungry?
When did we offer drink in thirst?
When did we welcome you stranger?
When did we clothe you when naked?
When did we care for you when ill?
When did we see you in prison? ’
The king will say to them again,
‘Amen, I say to you, amen,
Whatev’r you did unto the least
Brothers of mine, you did for me! ’
Then he will say to ones on left,
‘Depart from me, you accursed all,
Into the fire eternal,
Prepared for Satan and devils.’
‘For, when I was in hunger great,
You never gave me food to eat;
And when in thirst, for drink, I asked,
You never cared to offer me.’
‘When like a stranger, I met you,
You never cared to welcome me;
I lay all naked, without clothes,
You never cared to spare a dress;
In prison when I became ill,
You never cared to visit me.’
They will then answer and say, ‘Lord,
When were you hungry and thirsty?
When were you naked, a stranger?
When did we fail to meet your needs? ’
He’ll answer them and say, ‘Amen,
What you didn’t do to ones the least,
You did not do unto me too! ’
‘And these will get eternal rod,
While righteous get eternal life! ’
(6-13-2007)
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Be arrogant to stay put.
A passionate servant served his Master,
Attending his needs no less than anyone,
And for him, fought the Eagle in the battle,
But by the Master was overthrown ill,
And was put to the claw of the same Eagle,
Who crept in, to replace the servant.
Where lies the error of judgment?
Squarely upon the ill-fated servant.
A faithful servant to the faithless Master.
Had he been a fraud, the Master might mind.
(M. Karunanithi, the servent, was defeated in the Assembly Election thoroughly by ADMK headed by Jayalalitha.)
27.05.2001, Pmdi.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mine All Mine
Forgive me father
For I have sinned
Ive been through hell and back again
Shook hands with the devil
Looked him in the eye
Looked like a long lost friend
Anything you want
Any dirty deeds
Hes got everything
Except what I really need
Keepin me temporarily satisfied
But not one thing I tried
Filled me up inside
Or felt like mine
Mine, all mine
Yeah, the search goes on
The more I look
My world keeps getting smaller
Staring at the sun
Searchin for the light
Almost ended up blinded
Some only see
What they want to see
Claiming victory
Oh, but thats not me
Give me truth
Give me something real
I just want to feel
Like its
Mine, all mine
Oh really mine, all mine
Come on give me something
Something thats mine, all mine, all mine
Mine, all mine
All the words on the wall
Look the same in the mirror
Every riddle
Every clue
You got allah in the east
You got jesus in the west
Christ, whats a man to do?
Theyll find a cure for anything
Just kill the pain
Numb my brain
We see a man
Speaking the word of god
Provin to be a fraud
His own church applauds
Stop lookin out
Start lookin in
Be your own best friend
Stand up and say
Hey! this is mine
All mine, all mine, all mine
Baby, you got something
And I got something
And its mine, all mine, all mine
Mine, all mine
Mine, all mine
Yes, Im searching
Mine, all mine
Got to have it
Mine, all mine
Mine, all mine
song performed by by Van Halen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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