The Pauper

Oh! What is this dark shadow around me, and this breeze so chilly and cold, Must I always live the life of a pauper, and do as I'm always told,
I have no ground to stand on, no place, fame or wealth, and if I cough here slowly, it's because of my fading health,
People, they always laugh at me, at my worn and tattered clothes, friends don't
come around me, they don't even want to get close.
And as I lift my head up to the sky, I can taste the morning dew,
I was wondering why life had mistreated me, what did I ever do,
And as I lay here dying I heard a voice say this to me
Have no fear my lost and bewildered friend, I Jesus will be with you until the very end.

by Joseph A. Leonard

Other poems of JOSEPH A. LEONARD (1)

Comments (0)

There is no comment submitted by members.