Some people hide their sorrow,
And keep it all inside;
While others turn to idols,
In which their trust abides.
The quiet ones are restless,
They've drifted from the light.
The idols of the others
Are riches, fame and might.
The little joys they bring them,
Are as nothing when compared,
To the peace and joy that's brought us,
When from sin and shame we're spared.
Through the precious blood of Jesus,
There is room for all who'd come,
And sing the praise with angels
Of the Father and the Son.
Oh the road is long and weary,
And the tempter's near at hand,
But my eyes are fixed on Jesus
And He leads me by the hand.
Through thick and thin He'll guide me
To His kingdom up above
And when my journey of life is over
I shall reign with Him in love.
* I wrote this when I was thirteen.
It was my first poem of this nature and theme.
It was for in C.A.'s.