Wings of a Poor Man

Wings of a poor man I am soon getting my riches one day
Sitting here waiting for that some day
Unfortunately I may never see this one day.

Born from the root of the sugar fields,
Grandfather was a poor man,
Father was a poor man,
I am poor man,
Seeking for his riches in a higher realm
Never forseen by the eyesight of a poor farmer child,
Rendered worthless to this greater society.

Puddles of poverty,
Drenched with desparity,
Overflowing with rivers of pain and sorrow.

This is not the life which I chose,
But it's the only life which I know,
Perhaps the only life which I will ever know.

Wings of a poor man, I am soon getting my riches one day
Sitting here waiting for that some day
Unfortunately I may never see this one day.

Sitting in this mental prison staring from my window,
Reaching my sights to these freed beings,
Praying to spread these impoverished wings
And fly to my final promise land. 

Hoping to break these chains of ignorance
Which have condemned and infested my people so superficially,
Unlocking the chains with a quest of knowledge,
This so called "education" never forseen by a poor farmer child.

Wings of a poor man, I am soon getting my riches one day
Sitting here waiting for that some day
Unfortunately I may never see this one day.

Walking these streets,
Plethora of pretty women,
Sweet to the eye but bitter to the soul.

So caught up in the materialistic,
Most have lost sight of the realistic.
Rags to riches,
Dressed in rags while I get spit on by their riches.

Asking for nothing by diamond and pearl,
A world that I can never give
While all this poor farmer child has to offer is
A clean heart and hand-drawn cart
Filled with freshly picked apples,
Keeping his mind on the freshly picked apple of his eye,
Which unfortunately wil lnever be his to blossom and harvest
The fields of the four chambers of his chest.

Wings of a poor man I am soon getting my riches one day
Sitting here waiting for that some day
Unfortunately I may never see this one day.

Hailing cries for miles and miles,
Praying for that one day,
I look to the sky and hear a slight whisper....

Wings of a poor man I am soon getting my riches one day
Sitting here waiting for that some day
My Father tells me I will see this one day.

Rain Showers of Babylon

The people close their eyes

And listen to

The roaring thunders of the skies above.

These skies, so dark, so cloudy.

Saturated with pure evil and hate.

As they continue to listen . . .

Screams are heard from all around.

Mothers fighting to protect children.

Husbands trying to save wives.

Sinners, begging for mercy.

Rain showers of Babylon begin to fall.

No mercy on these people.

What does their destiny really hold?

As they look up,

The skies light up so bright.

And the people's fears get oh, so tight.

Monsoons of fire fill the sky.

Showers of nukes and missiles streak and scrape

The heavens above.

The rivers . . .

Overflow from these storms.

Filled with the bloodshed of those innocent.

Where has all the love gone?

The Peace? The Unity?

Hopes and Dreams.. Aspirations..

Just crushed.

Destroyed.

There is nothing left.

A poor, innocent child

Looks into the heavens.

She pleas . . .

"Rain, rain, rain, go away, come again another day.”

There is no other day.

There will be no other day.

This is the last day.

This is the final day.

This is the day of...

Rain Showers of Babylon.

Listen My Son

Listen my son.

I was born poor, grew up poor, am poor,

And will die poor.

But always remember my son,

I am a poor man with a rich heart.

My pockets have been empty with holes

But I’ve kept my heart full and whole.

Listen my son.

You are the child of a poor man,

Please my son,

Always remember to keep a rich heart,

For we have suffered for years,

Spending the dime while only earning the nickel.

Listen my son.

My feet are tired but my soul is rested

Because your destiny has been fulfilled

And vested by the Most High.

Listen my son.

I’ve worked and toiled

These cane fields for years.

And now my son sits at a higher place

Because I have put all my faith and trust

Unto the Most High.

Yes my son,

We have suffered but nevertheless,

Always praise the Most High

And give nothing less.

For the Most High will never forsake you

Because you have put all your faith and trust

Unto the Most High

And He will throne you

Unto the most high.

Listen my son.

Practice humanity

And worship not vanity

For our kingdom awaits us in a higher place.

Listen my son.

My feet are tired but my soul is rested.

As I close my eyes to lay in restful peace,

Always keep your ear turned to the sky,

And always remember,

Listen my son.