O Lord, the things I have seen in my days I have been given
O Lord, the things by your grace to me You have shown
South-West Virginia and Your beautiful Blue Ridge Mountains
Iron Ridge culture, hard working poor white trash, 1950’s.
“I’m going to start remembering now”
These, the first words I ever remember
Spoken aloud, words from within my own soul
Inner words, everyone has a soul, I know They speak to all
Placed all the rooms in our little home, which I still remember
Outside, counted all the concrete blocks front to back
Two years old, friends how do we do and know such things?
Born with math skills, but look at Mozart what at three he could play.
Summertime, setting on the front porch, my two siblings by my side
Walk across the dirt road to the wood gate
Sunny day, watching the cattle on the other side
Mom gave us each a nickel for us a Coke to buy, a great treat at the time
Walked to the Shell just below the house that sheltered us five.
O how hard it was on Mom, to always be so poor
Minimum wage factories, workers just chafe on the rich mans floor
I guess it’s easier on the pre -school children, the classes they don’t know
School starts, you see other children, realities you had not seen before.
Mid 1960’s, poor flight to to west, a better life your hoping for
You trade the Blue Ridge for the Great Sioux’s Black Hills
O Lord, on at trip like this, the things a child’s eyes ingest
Moon light shines, illuminates the beauty of the big rigs
August Rattle Snakes playing in the sand, 114 in the shade
30 days later, chest high snow in September, O what a land.
One year later, hoping for better, for a good job toward Windy we ran
When you are so poor, you spend your whole life trying to escape it
But even young, I knew that pain, always present in my Mamma’s eyes
Life is always hard with an alcohol disease riddled parent
Knowing that you are hated and he beats you with glee
Even harder on the child when they know other adults know and see
They never ever come to your aid, they always just let it be.
Life’s early hardships, good or bad, they help create the person inside
About forth or fifth grade I walked into your door Lord
My life long rock, my life many times You have saved
Poor white boy, learning of life in the mid-west, with a Hill Billy mind
With some knowledge of Dakota’s beautiful Black Hills
These life’s lessons, good and bad, always living behind my eyes.
Now I am aged with gray beard and store bought eyes
Now the projector in my mind plays me many memories
Occasionally I see some of the good I have done in my life
Though I do try to castrate these pictures from my mind
A lofty heart leads to evil, I wish to give ego no quarters to hide.
In my life I have mastered the art of many evils
O how I wish I could say that this thing was a lie
But when you have seen and have known pure evil
Pay some attention to the news, evil all around us resides
Demons have no fear of man, they will lie, looking you in the eyes
They will tell you they are Angels, for your best interest they care inside
Do not be deceived, mainly in the worlds capitals they hide.
In my time Lord You have shown me many things
Through Your Spirit You have given me some site
In life it is so easy to become a manic-depressive
You have so plainly shown me our planets plight and demise
Our leaders and the media so filled with venom to Your light
Evil so blinded and hungry for more power, money, and pride.
I know that by the time the trumpet sounds
I will once again be just dust upon the ground
Though I cringe for all our children, and theirs
The battle of the Nations against their Creator
For left behind loved ones, Armageddon lies ahead.
As the Lord and His Angels return to fight from the clouds overhead
The Demons pre-judged, to Hell they will now be thrown
Leaving the poor defrauded people to fight God and His Angels alone
They are now like grapes in the press, confused, disillusioned, and dead.
Lord I thank You that this event I will not have to see, “In My Time”.