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Rags to Riches
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson


Rags to Riches


I’d cheat I’d steal for daily bread   

The devil was my choice

Content I’d lie within his bed

Until I heard Your voice


Speaking in visions to my mind

I saw the devil’s lies

My ravelled life I saw unwind

Before my very eyes


By grace my heart beheld the sight

The Truth my soul could see

To darkness came life’s guiding Light

To save a wretch like me


I see Your throne and cattle stall

Your humble place of birth

Your selfless love and those who fall

For whom You came to earth


I see the cross I feel the pain

The temple veil in two

Each drop of blood that washed my stain

Causing my birth anew


I’ve witnessed Lord Your dreadful death

How love bore all my sin

My heart can feel Your final breath

That burns now deep within


Throughout my God your eyes saw me

You saw my filthy heart

You saw the day you’d set me free

And grant a brand new start


You are my Lord my righteous King

The reason why I live

Always my God Your praise I’ll sing

With all the strength You give..... 

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Submitted: Thursday, April 23, 2015

Last Updated: Thursday, April 23, 2015

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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