Colin F. Jones


I hear words about sweet Jesus, God, and the Lord;
I read them written down until I’m positively assured.
I hear God is a healer, who loves children and the poor,
That Jesus was a peaceful man who condemned the act of war
But these are simply words I read, repeated over time,
Collected to our craniums by our subjective minds.
Words that have no actions for the poor remain the poor,
And children are still dying from the destructiveness of war.
There is poverty and racism grave illnesses and pain,
All subjects of a God whom in grief they praise his name.
Yet what does he do for them; make them better when they’re dead?
What about the misery, felt through the life they have led?
And always the answer is, more words – all said the same
And wars go one, and children die, and the lame are still the lame.

This poem prompted the response, “Paths of Darkness” ©Copyright May 31, 2006 by Ann-Marie Spittle