"lagging" poems
Sa tulang aking naisulat,
Sanay may mamulat ,
Sa kasalana at problemang lagging naiuulat,
Sa telebesyon at radyo ikaw ay magugulat.
Mundong puno ng karahasan,
Mga taong makasalanan,
Walang paninindigan,
Mga taong nang iiwan,
Pamilyang nasira sa isang kasalanan,
Kasalanang Patuloy na ginagawat patuloy na nariyan.
Mga problemang hindi masulusyonan,
Mga batang sa kalsaday naiwan ,
Mga taong naiwan ng kanilang pangarap at kinabukasan,
Ito’y opinion lamang,
Sa aking naririnig bilang isang mang mang.
Ang suliraning laging nariyan,
Kawalan ng kapayapaan,
Kakulangan ng sapat na edukasyon ng mga kabataan,
Walang sawang Kahirapan,
Kawalan ng sapat na pantustos ng kalusugan ng mga mamamayan.
Pagkagumon ng mga kabataan sa bawal na droga,
Patuloy na pagtaas ng populasyon na di naaalintana,
Nasaan ang hustisya ?,
Bakit ang inosente ang nasa rehas na bakla?, Nasaan ang tunay na may sala?
Maging sa eleksyon ay may daya,
Pagbabagot pag unlad ang gusto natin,
Kaya simulan natin sa mismong pamamahay natin.
Bakit ganito nasaan ang pagbabago?
Laging naririnig ko pag bukas palang ng radio,
Bilang isang kabataan, bilang isang mamamayan ,
Ang pagbabago ay laging naririyan,
Ito’y nasa iyo ung pupulutin mo o itatamabak lamang.
Oct 20, 2017
Oct 20, 2017 at 11:00 PM UTC
For our Echoing Little Red Riding Hoods
Lagging behind in the Opposition Departments
Lets help you out by offering some buzzwords
For your important assignments even though they've
been floated around forever,
But we understand you need some help catching up
So memorize these basic premises
And please enrich your lives and utilise your valuable time
by raking your little brains to create poems with them
Lets begin with ITALIAN , don't forget RAINBOW, LIES
is also in, add RESPECT, throw in RUDENESS, factor in
LITTLE GIRL, remember ANGEL, write about TRUST, that
much overuse term, throw in BLACK - that's quite a
popular one. Also PINK is quite up the scale, as well as HEART-
Broken ( as if ) and pleeeezee make a big fuss on LONELINESS
That's a big seller. APPLE and SERPENT did appear now and
again so trigger them as you like.
How about BETRAYAL, LOYALTY, FAKE FRIENDS and that
famous one, FOUR or is it THREE, what about BONES,
Lets not forget SKELETON or even ANOREXIC, let also
remember SCREAM, that was a scream..hahah see what
I did there! Remember GREY that has a bit of colour and
what about BUCK or even DOOR-MAT that was a wipe-off
or SUBMISSIVE another popular one.
Hmmm...what about HAIR CUT or TOMBOY or DIGITAL
those are quite good or WOODGREEN or HULL or DOG
that reared its head...woof....woof...hahahah or CEREAL,
beats me what that's about or even MONEY..though that
never was an issue, how about GOLD-DIGGER just for
drama or 50/50 which has been mentioned. Hey! don't forget
RED, what to do without that pinking away.
So please Little Hoods, students of the Opposition Department
keep with the programme and work on these pointers
crack your little brains and write poems like crazy little ants
Your contribution is valuable cause persistent is the Key.
Keep up with your assignment and forget all other things
Oppose, oppose, oppose, work those little brains!
Sep 25, 2018
Sep 25, 2018 at 4:30 PM UTC
There's no replying
To the Wind's sighing,
Telling, foretelling,
Dying, undying,
Dwindling and swelling,
Complaining, droning,
Whistling and moaning,
Ever beginning,
Ending, repeating,
Hinting and dinning,
Lagging and fleeting--
We've no replying
Living or dying
To the Wind's sighing.
What are you telling,
Variable Wind-tone?
What would be teaching,
O sinking, swelling,
Desolate Wind-moan?
Ever for ever
Teaching and preaching,
Never, ah never
Making us wiser--
The earliest riser
Catches no meaning,
The last who hearkens
Garners no gleaning
Of wisdom's treasure,
While the world darkens:--
Living or dying,
In pain, in pleasure,
We've no replying
To wordless flying
Wind's sighing.
4.2k
Mistakes happen, they really do
If you were me you'd make mistakes too.
The environment around you so enticing.
The group of friends so inviting.
Just one hit, it'll do you good
Just relax, you're with us. Not in the hood.
Smoke some more to get real high.
Stop lagging around, join us on cloud 9
I'm sorry world, for temptation had won
And indeed my mistake was said and done
From the mix of drink and ****
Into that darkness I shall proceed
Not by choice, but my own blindness
Not even to be pulled back by light's kindness
Jan 11, 2015
Jan 11, 2015 at 12:47 AM UTC
The river drank gallons of ripened water-the color of aging bananas
mouth gaping wider, fishing for more of a glass half full
tired of the filthy laundry piling beneath the surface
waiting to sketch deeper into the canyon and discover
a cure for boredom
sunset: gazing at the back of the horizon
easy to notice the tiny spit of pointillism
which gave focus to the clouds
maybe there are more finer details
than a ragged pair of sneakers and
eye lashes that tickle ears
hoping that the crisp iced air would help
remind tall lagging legs that the unexpected action
would be to keep 3 extra soft layers waiting for
the dirt encrusted pink toe nails to feel the promise of
making a right choice
thinking perhaps that writing down little
snip-its of the way curls only twist closer to
each other in heat will keep the electricity in busy brains
buzzing just long enough to avoid the bills
but only if someone describes touching lace
thinking even more that there
are better ways for you and I to figure out the word
we
if by midnight strawberry swirls don't melt down my arm
Mar 28, 2012
Mar 28, 2012 at 12:38 AM UTC
47
Heart! We will forget him!
You and I—tonight!
You may forget the warmth he gave—
I will forget the light!
When you have done, pray tell me
That I may straight begin!
Haste! lest while you’re lagging
I remember him!
3.2k
Different strokes for different folks, but if I stuttered when I spoke, there is a reason why I wrote, and if you think that I'm a joke, then stroke me, stroke me...
Empirical lyrically virile and viral a warrior reborn like he's gone out of style,
a rage unabated both non-syncopated and internal/external no meter's abated!
You wanted an anthem?
You wanted a cause?
You wanted a figure to even the odds?
You thought I was kidding
but now you're admitting that
I am the chosen whose broken the clause!
Rising in status, my main apparatus, the attitude: platitudes lack the finesse!
I'm searching for perfect not anything less!
I'm raring to stage an incredible coup, there just ain't a limit to what I can do!
Melding the milieus of millions and millions of masses who clash for the chance for the cash,
when all that was needed was truth to believe in, significance outed, you puppet let's dance!
No bragging, no lagging, and no more sandbagging, the hustle is over, your tussle is weak!
For soon we will savor the end of your flavor, fifteen minutes over, your outlook is bleak.
I'm nobody's pigeon hole, nobody's fool, I've seen quite my share of arrogant tools,
but here are the statements that lead me to greatness:
love me or hate me, go on instigate me, ignore me and gasp when you hear of my rule!
I'm raring to stage an incredible coup, there just ain't a limit to what I can do!
Now join me in raising a fist to the sky,
and pound upon pressure to powers that lie.
Make diamonds of rhyme-ends and squelter your silence
to pierce through the casket that left us so quiet.
Their reign is run dry, and nobody buys it, let's hit this at home so they cannot supply it.
Prepare the artillery pack in your fire, you're gonna need it , if the bars get any higher,
now hear from the jokee, I dare you provoke me, you still talking **** well stroke me, stroke me.
I'm raring to stage an incredible coup, there just ain't a limit to what I can do!
**I'm willing to take it for me and for you, THERE'S NO ******* LIMIT TO WHAT WE CAN DO!**
Dec 3, 2012
Dec 3, 2012 at 4:41 PM UTC
Under sizzling and bleeping
The time runs nigh
Between heaven and hell
In a room, too bright
Runs a body deadly circles
Captured in pipes
While the fellowship falls silent
As the headman decides
To live and let die
Slow, but soon, the dying noise
Leaves a weakly beating heart
Fighting it's own pointless war
No men alive shall ever thwart
And lifes children turn quiet
As they face the final loss
The fact they can´t deny
They live and let die
Now, the silence bales and centers
Around the fallen prey
Slowly, death spreads, like a cancer
Drives the living far away
Until only ease is lagging
In the minds that still stand by
Relief about the outcome
To live and let die
Jan 15, 2019
Jan 15, 2019 at 3:23 PM UTC
Suddenly, I understand it all.
Yet the world is a mystery and I am lost in it.
Ages are a time and emotion.
13 is mid afternoon. Lagging and energetic.
15 is the morning sun. Rising groggy and regretful.
17? 17 is the night.
17 is the span between 11-1.
When you aren't wild yet but things are certainly different.
17 is the city lights and no seatbelt.
17 is the teenage cliché,
shadowed by the unknown of what is to come.
17 is crying in the hallways and stargazing on the lawn.
17 is having a bottle of ***** under the bed,
but being too scared to drink it.
17 is Ribs and loneliness,
As you watch the night slip away and the knowledge hits you that you now have to wait for morning.
17 is the unknown.
17 is taking risks.
Not because you are brave,
but because you don't have anything left to give.
17 is to be lost,
but to be okay with that.
17 is slowly coming down from the high of growing up,
Reflecting on all you have lived,
As you patiently wait for your life to begin.
Jan 14, 2019
Jan 14, 2019 at 6:44 PM UTC
“a decade old is forever new, for
truth is never old.”
Pradip Chattopadhyay
this man, ten years of inspiration, ten years of friendship, here,
on HP,
provides nourishment to my lagging body as it nears eight decades
of Earthly occupation, for
his eyes and heart and his mastery
of the songs of the tongue,
have wrenched me straight,
we, attentive to the tears
he makes me weep, for his insights penetrate my insides,
even now as one, unexpectedly, reflects midst
yet another first poem of the day, my eyelids blink away
the wet,
my brain revels at his pithy, how he corrals,
encapsulates the daily smoke and fire of life,
it truest value,
in words that make one wonder,
what admixture of mineral, chemical, history,
adventures, atmosphere, parentage, spices,
love gives him these super powers to gentle
seize the moment, size our souls, causing my
cheeks to wide smile, while mine eyes sheds
monsoon droplets of feelings so deep, that
my repaired heart oxygenates my very soul,
making me high, my mind reels that a day will
come inevitable
that one of us will be unable to sit by side,
swapping tales of granddaughters, and
other earth meaningful events, to walk his
streets or he, mine, finishing each other’s
couplets.
to think that I awoke with no intention of
composing this paean, but his brief pearl
knocks my head side to side,
and with the
tears, come words,
that age, or an entire
decade,
cannot restrain,
retrained to modesty,
for regarding my friend
Pradip,
my boundaries expand and cannot be
contained, even by my delimited vocabulary,
the paucity of my skill, the insufficiency of
the adjectives acquired over a lifetime, but
do my unequal-to-the-task best efforts,
but without choice, but compulsed, compelled,
one more time, to say,
to my new day,
perhaps my last,
I love this poet~man.
this is one of my truths.
<>
Wed Jan 17 8:31am
City of New York
<>
read the poetry of
https://hellopoetry.com/pradip-chattopadhyay/
<>
Jan 20, 2024
Jan 20, 2024 at 12:27 PM UTC
i dream of foggy bliss
a floating lagging sort of luxury
reminiscent of drug induced
bubbly bogus happiness
Nov 18, 2016
Nov 18, 2016 at 11:00 AM UTC
Like swimming in molasses
trying to ascend
hoping to begin
to get where I want to be
Swimming in molasses,
can’t get there from here
as a robot in first gear
trying to go with the flow
Swimming in molasses
waiting for the gooey
mass to warm
for me to find my way
Swimming in molasses,
Grandma’s Gold Standard all natural kind
dark, black-brown viscid glue
that holds and restricts
I’m swimming in molasses
deliberate, lethargic,
lagging, leaden, swirling toward
the promise that awaits me
Aug 13, 2015
Aug 13, 2015 at 11:22 AM UTC
Right now
I have a bed underneath me ,
A cozy blanket is all over me and a pillow under my head,
I got a college to go tomorrow and food to eat,
I got no deadlines for tomorrow to complete,
I got a roof upon me which won't break until a havoc strikes at its full or earth eats the whole colony in least ,
I got parents to look after me representing one is as a man and another is a women who make me feed,
The wholesome nutrition and the best Pack of emotions I will need ,
Still what is lagging behind what is the best hearty deed ?
That I want to do but can't do because I don't know what is going on in repeat.
Feb 7, 2019
Feb 7, 2019 at 12:00 PM UTC
I feel the friction raising blisters to fingers.
I feel the whispers of the smoke when it lingers,
a siren rifling delirium
and biting to the throat of a genius
who questions how bad miasma hurts the singer.
It's the quintessential fever dream between us
Oh, he's so smart, look at his three page diatribe
describing his rage, he's a machinist
yeah
Go join the dire parades of craven weakness.
Admire reagents calculated to the T,
brewed and created for playfully degrading,
and raising heart rate, lying to you,
and prying from your fingers.
When they ask you why you're dying be facetious.
Just sew the mask on to your face and make it seamless.
Breath it in.
Smell the plastic and bone.
Relax enraptured in what half of us know.
We drink the rumors from a chalice,
sink in fallacies of balance,
humor actuates the patterns,
and its harder to battle the tumor after it's grown.
Then we're just grass on the road,
and we can laugh as we go,
and we can act as if inaction
ain't the crack in the stone.
And we'll be baffled alone.
We'll be the practical applicants
of a graph of a lung,
hung in a school.
Drooling hospital drones.
Stool in a bag on his side.
Try to hide the agony in seeing lagging behind
tank of life on a chain.
Banking his breath on a check,
and when it bounces he dies.
It ends faster than you think it might.
Don't even start.
Dec 12, 2018
Dec 12, 2018 at 4:00 PM UTC
Remember that day we glided along rice fields,
me and you lagging at the back,
while the 12 of us pedaled bicycles?
The clouds drooled down daylight,
and I was feeling lonely and crap.
You glanced back on the road and waited. "You alright?"
your eyes said.
And we chatted about our problems, time chopping away on an x-asis,
as we passed fields, motorbikes, and watersheds.
Those shared moments every day
with you, our friends, and our Vietnamese teaching staff,
it aligned my universe like a human astrolabe.
I'm so glad our group traveled across the world,
riding bikes and drinking beer unbounded by maps.
It ***** being home now, far away. I miss you and I'm always bored.
Jan 11, 2015
Jan 11, 2015 at 12:55 AM UTC
I’ve found religion in your smile.
Trusted the way it curves, practicing
the lines in my mind with delicacy,
ripening your image until it’s sore.
Your throat baptizes me,
replaces the devil of my intentions
with sweet, rosy breath,
curling my inhibitions until they dive
back into me and I express my very desires
openly on a blanket--
and it’s no sin
because I love the way your spine stands
like a perfect cross, carrying me
to the vision you have of a better me
than what I used to be.
I’ve prayed for your thighs in naughty ways,
but you’ve taken my hands,
folded them into shapes I can’t comprehend
and kissed my fingertips until I was crying
out of confusion and catharsis,
finally understanding what it feels like to count
people, you, as a blessing.
I see God when you make instruments
out of blades of grass, or how that strap
slides off your shoulders when the wind
graces the moment with a whisper.
He gave me an angel disguised as a woman
with too many pillows on her bed and coffee breath,
but you pull me from point to point like taffy,
slowly, lagging, molding me into the gift
you never wished for. I, bestowed at His feet,
unwilling found a soul and a heartbeat
louder than any of my unforgiving words.
Sep 2, 2014
Sep 2, 2014 at 2:23 PM UTC
*** dat lingwistik ****
is so **** bro.
ppl dun wanna no nefing nemore, well tgif.
i just wanna *** some bishes
nd 4get abt lyf.
I ceebs bein gud wif werdz.
i jst wnt sum roofies 2 hlp me relx.
my comp is lagging 2much.
2 many **** on ytube 2dae.
imma go on COD and shoot sum *****
jst add me on SC nd u can send me nudes.
i mite c u at da clubs 2nite.
rofl.
YOLO.
inb4 dis is uncomahensabul
dis is 2deep4u.
May 23, 2016
May 23, 2016 at 11:46 AM UTC
In retrospect we see
with eyes we do not have.
Blindness is as frequent
as breathing, or more.
One hand leading,
one hand lagging,
the ego soundly truncates
what expediency has not.
Blindness is not darkness:
blindness is not seeing.
Blindness is correctly being
in all our vapid states.
Physicality is abstract,
and the stalk to true self:
proper awareness must be earned,
through our factual senses.
May 5, 2012
May 5, 2012 at 4:07 PM UTC
Chapter I
I once was young minded,
vulnerable with wide tooth grins
and fluttering words,
binding soft skin with liquid
metals - like gallium,
clustering in my ribbed fingertips and
letting love level in my lips.
I turned old the day I watched
rough bodies portraying the new style
of
***
on a vhs tape, and he
gave me a shaking milkshake to
turn off my developing
voicebox.
I always wore this barbie nightgown
that had tears from the nights before,
but that's ancient dust that folks
flip past in encyclopedias.
as he knelt down to tie my veins
together in little bows,
I untied after each loop was set in
my bones.
his acidic fingers braced my eight
year old metal frame,
so I broke the nuts and bolts since
I wanted to see if he was
a part of the human race,
I wanted to see if he could bleed
iron-richness that kept myself breathing.
Chapter II
he was beautiful.
his philosophy branched in
segments and he tasted of
earthy tones, but sometimes
he couldn't smile easy and
I felt his love only in acts of passion.
The football game stuttered in
pure vertigo,
as if my body was still
positioned in missionary.
he held me in concern, his arms
laced as protection from myself.
as a survivor, his words felt like
whiplash or lagging from too much
flying in the high altitude.
I needed to forget, float, forgive
and begin the process over again.
I would never see the shades of love
from anyone other than from him,
his words used to brand me.
Chapter III
I drank too much.
I wished on meteorites,
lead-filled, hoping they wouldn't
fall on the tent.
my luck was never strong enough.
I felt as if a wildfire was singeing
my dysfunctional limbs.
I wanted him off. now.
and my tongue was made of
parchment paper. crisped.
I woke up ten after nine.
my body repulsed me,
throwing up the last of poisonous
alcohol I left stranded the
night before.
I devoted that I will never sleep in
a tent again.
Chapter IV
I am finally free.
I still have energy in these
old bones,
and I want to put them
to good use.
so I'll walk for centuries to
find truth and trust.
I use my voice to tell myself
I am more profound than the
surface film those insignificants swept
on my skin.
I found my voice again.
Mar 31, 2011
Mar 31, 2011 at 4:51 PM UTC
Start by hitting snooze
Twice for good measure
Leave the house just a few minutes later
Turning right into a jam
A thick, slow traffic jam
Viscous car molasses
But much less sweet
Sit there for a second
Simmering in sweat
Your blood begins to boil
Your hands begin to clench
Grip the steering wheel
Watch the clock tick time away
Curse your screeching alarm
Curse the convertible in front of you
Curse Monday mornings
Curse anything but yourself
Know that screaming at the cars
Won’t make that red turn green
But do it anyway
Honk your horn
Flash an unfavorable finger
To the vehicles doing the same to you
How is it rush hour
When everything is lagging
Your will to move is sagging
Roll your eyes at the radio
Wishing listeners a good morning
Oblivious to your mini meltdown
Once you can peel away
And break through that barrier
Sprint down that street
Swerving aggressively
Whip into the parking lot
Pretend your throat isn’t hoarse
And your knuckles aren’t white
Go about your day
Get excited for tomorrow morning
Tuesdays are better
Right?
Mar 6, 2021
Mar 6, 2021 at 11:18 PM UTC
We rang in the new year
On a mattress thrown on your
Living room floor
With the ball drop
On a desktop computer screen
The sound was lagging
Behind the images
And we were laughing
At how we always end up
Stuck in the past
You threw your arms around me
And let your kisses land
Carelessly wherever
They fell
And I outlined your jaw bone
With my pointer finger,
Threading it through
Your beard
And looking into your
Lazy eyes
You counted the times I said
"Like okay" at the beginning of a story
And by 5 AM , you announced
We'd reached a healthy twenty
You kept apologizing
For the way your dog
Was relentlessly
Licking my neck
But honestly
Even with her slobber
And yours
Dripping over my collar bones
And even with the night air
Tingling on my thighs,
Just a little too thick,
Just a little too warm,
Even with my straightened hair
Curling at its ends
And your brother's girlfriend's
Faint moaning sounds from behind
A locked door
There was nothing I'd rather be doing
Than watching your eyes expand and contract
To the rhythm of your stories
Before the blue light of television
Overlapping moon lit window sills
And dark spaces
You are the yellow light love,
Symbolism with a pulse,
Saying "it's officially 2017"
With a begging grin
And an undercurrent of
Gentle laughter,
Standing for change
And growth
And warmth
And simplicity
You are transparent
And in the palms of your hands
I see the year panned out
In blue veins
And freckles
And it is kind hearted
And it is forgiving
And it is kissing my forehead
And letting me breathe
I know this is going to
Be a good one
Jan 2, 2017
Jan 2, 2017 at 1:58 AM UTC
Reality was bereft
As your head,
Caresses the pillow
A night deft.
As I hear the crickets
Lagging behind, I
With you on the way
To dreamland with a ticket.
Don the Hatter's Hat
In Alice's Wonderland.
As we sip tea
With Rabbit and the Cheshire Cat.
Be large or be small
Eating chocolates
And muffins
Down the rabbit hole.
A carpet of wings
We fly over
The Caspian, The Aegean
To where the Siren sings.
Three headed dog is yours
A gargoyle, mine.
Little pets we walk
Down Tartarus's corridors .
Europe behind, we face
South West
To the land of Mayans
And folk of a mystical race.
We play war chief,
Play in our blue tepee
Flying on the backs
Of eagles as they screech.
You dance around
My fire
Gyrating in that form
Bringing rain down.
Purple Rider
On a wind maned horse
Black One on a
Golden strider.
Barfights and shootouts
Brawls and scuffles
You gained a puffy eye
While I broke my stout.
Seeking a view
We jumped from
Skyscraper to skyscraper
Old and new.
Jumped from hills
Into rivers
Spoke to the wild
For time to ****
Wary of the time
We take flight
Off the Everest
We just climbed.
Down and down
Into a sea
Coloured silver
Bubbly diamonds all around.
No lack of gas,
You put swimming to the test
Tripped on a rock
A jellyfish attacks!
Boom and Pow
Wham, slam and
A big crunch
Little jellyfish said ow!
Get stuck in traffic
Office hours
We suppose
As the birds swam chaotic.
We're here!
Portal to reality
Now exposed
By now the dream was dear.
Maybe now you can't see
But we will,
The sun rise,
From the bottom of the sea.
So we wait
As the sea turned
Silver to fire
A nice first date.
Aug 12, 2015
Aug 12, 2015 at 10:07 PM UTC
For a couple of toffs , I was lagging their loft ,
The size of a Polo Pitch ,
With thick fibreglass , of a " superior class ",
There wasnt a part of me that didnt itch .
Now I had a , full bladder ,
So climbed down the ladder ,
Left the hatch open , like the " barn , I was born in "
Desperate for a *** , though it wasnt through tea ,
I hadnt been offered a cup all morning .
And right there , I saw , a note taped to the door ,
Saying "TRADESMAN - USE THE TOILET DOWNSTAIRS ".
In the natural light, blinking , it got me thinking ,
Is MY ***** , so different to theirs ?
Ignoring the sign, I crossed over the line
And entered "The Master Bathroom "
It was expensively tiled , a shame to defile,
Full of lotions , potions and perfume.
So I ****** in the sink , gave the mirror a wink
And was up to the loft like a thief .
Back home that night as I turned out the light,
I imagined them brushing their teeth .
Nov 24, 2017
Nov 24, 2017 at 8:27 AM UTC
long-legged brothers
daddy long legs, too
hurry, scurry
*wait up,
I can't keep up with you
slow down
wait for me
I'm lagging
don't you see*
~~~~~~~~~~
read...read...
scurry...scurry
always feeling in a hurry
so many...so much
you write too fast
it's like walk-running
in the past
slow down...
I lag behind it's true
slow down, wait for me
I can't keep up!
I can't keep up with you!
May 28, 2018
May 28, 2018 at 10:24 AM UTC
I could be Batman , with the best layed out plans.
And I still couldn't solve the crime.
And Sherlock Holmes could be on the trail and he still be lagging behind.
We would be following footprints until we get a lead.
I could be Green Lantern just using my lantern ring.
To guide me by the light.
And Superman could join in too.
And, we are still be searching for you.
I could request the asistance of Wonder Woman and Wonder Man.
While hoping they be a big help.
But then Spawn might come along.
And give us too much help.
I would call upon Spiderman and the Hulk.
But they seems to have the worst, of luck.
So, I keep following those footprints a little more in hope, of finding you.
Because in you Jesus stands my reason of glorifying you.
You are no idol or a fake king.
Like those I didn't name.
Your presence represent Power in the Holy Spirit name.
And, if there one hero that deserves undying fame.
It has to be the Lord God, who created every single thing.
Feb 15, 2011
Feb 15, 2011 at 4:13 AM UTC