PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Who is Alex? Who's this boy?

His heart is torn by hate and joy.

He's not the nicest boy there is,

Friendly, happy moods aren't his.

This boy's not famous for his kindness,

Those words and deeds are often missed.

Patience and trust, he may seem without,

He often gives in to his anger and doubt.

Bitterness may seem to dominate,

As pain causes fear, and leads to hate,

But there, despite his constant fear,

God's love makes his hate disappear.

Different, deep, goth, and nice.

Crazy * cracker, God loving, a punk with spice,

Intellectual, and judged unfairly,

Faithful, polite, strong and caring,

Overly-sensitive, mean, understanding,

This is what people think of him,

This is the impression he's left on them.

Whether true or not, That's how it is,

These titles, names, and marks are his.

He could change them if he wanted,

But this boy's nights will not be haunted,

By people's opinons, thoughts, and minds.

No action can please everyone,

And all will disappoint someone.

So, he's decided not to try,

Pleasing people is aiming too high.

He'll be content with who he is,

The world will contour, and bend to be his.



For I have learned that who I am,

Is who God made me, it's no scam.

I'm the son of Charles' daughter,

The spitting image of his father.

I live because God made me,

I love because He showed me,

I love God, but I'm a sinner,

I'm a loser and a winner.

I'm wrapped with a pink ribbon,

By Jesus, I'm forgiven.

I'm a friend, but I worry,

Is it real friendship they give me?

I've found it doesn't matter,

For God says He'll shatter,

All walls with His love.

So I look up above,

For all I need to be who is me,

And, Lord, I find it in thee.



I am who I am,

God made me that way.

I don't need my friends,

Or the things of this world.

For God is the potter,

And I am His clay.

He molded me in

To who I am.

He'll mold me further,

Only if I let Him.

             - Lo Ruhammah