Poetry

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In the poem that i write,my words are the limit
of my insight,no reason or rhyme,i did not make them it's the LORD,who made time.All words they can be put to-gether,or be taken apart like a
which,or a whether,they be all made up from A.to
Z,not as easy as a sneeze,it's very easy to spell them out,put them to-gether there's a which way in,
and a another way out,like all things they can be turned to good,or bad,our life will show to us the
life we've had,for words can make of us what we
are,every idle word we speak,or think,or print,
as words do go the one we all must need to know,
it's spelled SOUL,that most important of all words,
without it we cannot live,the question is where will i go,the word immortal is it's complement,
and saving it only GOD can show us how,for his
word alone says so,now. Joe.

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