Poems

If you have a testimony or a poem for the Lord and if you like to publish it on this website, please contact Jasmine or email her at overcominghurdles@shaw.ca.

INNOCENCE STOLEN

Poem

Scantily clad

With darkened eyes

And ruby red lips

She walked the streets

Luring men to destruction

A stolen childhood

With shattered innocence

As a young girl

She needed protection

But sad to say

This was never an option

What did her daddy do?

What did he put her through?

Young and naïve

He burned a hole through her heart

Tender and delicate

She finally escaped

Her body was used

For financial gain

As she believed the lies

Given to her

By selfish men

Her beauty was used

While she was abused

Then she turned to the Lord

And He made her whole again

Every tear was wiped away

She saw the light

At the end of the tunnel

Peace and love filled her heart

She was never the same

Restoration and healing

Repaired her broken soul

And no longer in her heart

Was there ever a hole.

Written By: Shawn Ghala

British Columbia, Canada

Copyright © 2012

THE HOODLUM

Poem

As a young boy endures

Endless taunts and constant mockery

Vengeance he seeks

Fashioning himself with hoodlum garb

Devilish marks paint his arms

Along he goes with the young toughs

Parading himself among them

His wounded heart seeks to destroy

As acceptance becomes his aim

Respect was all he needed

But hatred was all he got

Love was lost as a young adolescent

As tongues of poison pierced within

His apparel was cheap

As his mother had struggled

And sacrificed all day long

His skin was dark

And his features were foreign

And this had brought about judgement

Then he felt the Lord

Healing his wounds

And making his face all wet

The community could now

Rest in peace

For he was no longer a threat.

Written by: Shawn Ghala

British Columbia, Canada

Copyright © 2012

VANISHING WORLDS

Poem

With bows and arrows

They hunted

With cleverness

They fished

With gracefulness

They danced

Faces painted

With crowns and feathers

The drums are beating

As you hear

The mysterious sounds

Of rhythm and melody

These were the cultures

Of this great land.

Both rich and intriguing

Lo and behold

The fairs ones have arrived

Greed and arrogance

Grip their hearts

With deadly weapons

They steal their land

This is ours

Is what they say

Times have past

What has happened

To the future generations?

A struggle it is

To keep their old ways

How much harm

Can the fair ones inflict?

As a multitude

Of cultures

Becomes ravished

This land was theirs

But it was stolen

Their ancient ways

Virtually depleted

Restoration is needed

Change is essential

You can modernize the world

But at what cost?

You can explore new lands

But whom will you harm?

Enough is enough

As the people lose their roots

And the tribal ways become vanished

For once it’s gone

It’s gone

Written by: Shawn Ghala

British Columbia, Canada

Copyright © 2012

NOW YOU’RE WITH GOD

Poem

Days went by

And things got worse

Maybe you were born

With a serious curse

It was you they picked on

It was you they harassed

And all you wanted

Was to finish class

You plunged down deep

Into despair

And maybe you wondered

Does anyone care?

You overdosed

On so many pills

Part of it was

That words can kill

You suffered from

Discrimination

When all you wanted

Was an education

You finally died

Through suffocation

And your painful story

Has alerted the nation

You hated your life

You wanted to die

And all you could do

Was cry and cry

It did not work

As you swallowed bleach

As an end to it all

Seemed out of reach

Things got so bad

No matter what you tried

And all you could think of

Was suicide

You were caring and sensitive

So I’ve read

But it’s so unfortunate

That now you’re dead

Rest in peace

Amanda Todd

Now you are in heaven

Now you’re with God

Written by: Shawn Ghala

British Columbia, Canada

Copyright © 2012

MAIN AND HASTINGS

Poem

This is the intersection of humans defeated.
Their eyes are dead, their lifeforce depleated.
Men, made in the image of God, are dying.
Why did they give up?
What made them quit trying?

I have not walked in their weary shoes as such,
I am an observer and not their judge.

I smell the falsehood of their intoxication.
Bottled anesthetic,
Tools from the master of deception.

Look, see, the angry crimson cuts and bruises.
The remnants of unremembered nights gone by.
I hear their laboured breathing, their moans and sighs.

Oh Lord I smell urine, I see brown stained fingers.
This sadness will not leave me,
It remains and lingers.

Father these are the lost and the unlovable,
the forsaken, forgotten and the untouchable.
Was it not for these that the Son of man , died?

These strays,
The victims of Satans funfilled lies.
Who will jump into the mud to pull them out?

Who in this concrete wilderness is to herald and shout? “MAKE WAY FOR ONE WHO’S LOVE CAN SAVE”

Oh hear you lost ones that exist in this cold, hard and grey cement.

“REPENT”

Let them drink from living waters at the fountain of LIFE.
Look down with compassion Jesus
and free them from their heavy yoke and their Strife.

Written by:  Marion Garbe

British Columbia, Canada

Copyright © 1985