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The World Must Learn
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson

The world must learn

Without the Lord these eyes stayed blind

My life was lived in dread

Such foolish things would cloud my mind

I wished that I were dead


In all my life was something wrong

But yet I failed to see

Depression was  my only song

Without God’s love in me


I needed love but failed to know

I needed love so bad

No matter where I chose to go

My heart and soul was sad


In deep distress I shouted out

“Is Heaven truly there?

Can someone turn my life about?

And give me love to share”


Christ came with love and so much more

He’d heard my tearful cry

He told me what this life was for

And how I needn’t die


The world must also; learn to see

She just can’t live this way

Yet for the Lord to set her free

She too must kneel and pray


Must seek The Lord to take her pride

His grace, with faith to give

Must see why Jesus came to die

In order that she’ll live


We can’t go on the way we do

For death is close at hand

But through the blood, through birth anew

We’ll learn to understand.....

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Submitted: Friday, March 9, 2012

Last Updated: Friday, March 9, 2012

About the Poet
I never wrote a word of poetry in my life. Till the day Jesus took my hand and touched my soul.....I invite your response. However most poems are not about me! Very few are. But the feed-back good, bad or indifferent is always desired. Not meant to offend, but I write about many things in many a guise. Of life, death, lost, found, saved, backsliders, new comers, repenting souls, doubting hearts, heathens, Christians, fire, water, Satan's daughter, wallowing in sin, saved, made sound walking in Light, graceful righteous. Suffering, ecstatic, bored, excited, sad, delighted, Sick, well, lame, able, living, dying, etc. etc. etc. Writing about anything, everything and everyone as the spirit leads. All meant to reveal, waken, revive, encourage, shame, help. Gladden, pick up, exalt, portrait, liberate. Again over 99% of my work is not about me. Although at times I write as though I were or am. Speaking e.g. in the first person. This is quite common even in the bible itself. Prophets speak of themselves, then God speaks, again the prophet, then God......Quite often it's difficult to distinguish whom it is that at any given time is speaking or narrating.

Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson

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