-A BROKEN WING-
See that dove against the sky
She is flying so high
Flying alone
Flying home
See those tears set in her eyes
But she keeps herself high
Flying forward
Flying onward
And her wing is broken now
But she still flies somehow
Against that wind so hard
But she keeps a steady heart
And the Lord above knows
She is making it home
See that dove against the wind
She is not giving in
Flying bruised and weak
Flying
See those wings tattered and torn
Even though she is worn
Flying with faith
Flying with grace
And her wing is broken now
But she still flies somehow
Against that wind so hard
But she keeps a steady heart
And the Lord above knows
She is making it home...
© John Lowe Poem
-A CHILD-
A child wanders the street without a name
The cries the child makes, no one listens
Just the temptations that awaits in vain
A family is all this child visions
But abandonment is real
And so are the scars
There's nothing in this place that can heal
So the child's feet continues to walk far
The needs of this child are ready to give in
And so is the hunger for life
A child one step away from sin
But many steps away from the light
What happened to this lost soul?
Shouldn't the child be at a playground?
But no, there is a big, huge hole
And this soul continues to walk around
Faces look away, they don't want to look at the child's misery
People continue to walk on
Be careful, because when you turn back to see
The child might be gone...
© John Lowe Poem
-A FEELING FROM THE MOON-
I have a feeling from the moon
A feeling that no one can ever have
I have it every morning and noon
That feeling makes me so sad
I cannot control it for I am perplexed
And for I am also weak
That feeling makes me so upset
That it is happiness I still seek
A terrible feeling that rapes my soul
I cry out loud but no one ever hears
That feeling makes me disgusted and old
And it is so sincere
I don't show it to the strong and graceful ones
Because I am feeble and embarrass
If I do my personality would be undone
And my sacred love would be careless
LIke a broken promise to a child
Like the stars falling to the ground
Though I've traveled so many miles
My happiness cannot be found
My feeling is like the moon
Because it's abandoned and never loved
And one day it's promised for doom
Because it's alone and far above
It's dark and cold like a hellish night
For no love can't live there because there's no room
The planet never touched by the sunlight
And like the planet, it's bitter and never sweet
The wind there is louder than the sonic boom
So it never hears the child's voice that's tender and neat
That feeling is as cold as ice
And hurts like a burning fire
The feelng is never nice
But like the mind of a killer's desire
My feeling is like the moon
No life ever exist, but has been discovered
Yes, they do come, but they leave so soon
Leaving the real truth still covered
I know I will kill myself soon
All because of a feeling from the moon...
© John Lowe Poem
-FALLING LEAF-
Look at my soul within me
It is falling like a leaf
Because the wind blew too hard
It was too much for my heart
My hands that were grasping to the tree limb
I had to let go because of the raging wind
Blowing too hard, blowing too fast
Like the cycle of life getting out of hand
Everything, life is getting too hard to hold
So like the falling leaf, I had to let go
And let the wind blow me down
Let it kick and push me around
I am not strong, but weak
So I'll let the wind control me
Even though there are places I don't want to go
But the strong wind around me, I just let it blow
Look at my soul within me
It is falling like a leaf
Because the wind blew too hard
Yes, life is too hard...
© John Lowe Poem
-HOME-
A haunting cry from a distance
Searches for it's place
It has no companion, no assistance
It does not have faith
It wanders far and wide
But no answers come avail
It's body has died
It's soul is pale
Like the lone, lone moon
Circling the earth round and round
Like the thunderous sky of gloom
Crawling over the ground
It is searching for it's place
A scream echoes throughout the chambers of this earth
Searching for it's home
Ever since it left the living universe
It was and still is all alone
No hands seem to reach for it
Not one living or spirit seems to care
It cannot stand nor sit
Because it is so scared
So it continues to wander far and wide
The mountains and the valleys
To the edge of the ocean, to the highest skies
Every corner and every alley
It is searching for it's home
Because it has no faith
And it's soul is pale
Because of it's pain and heartaches
And it's horrible cries and wails
No answers come
And it's presence is forgotten
They don't reach for this one
As they know it's at the very bottom
In a world so empty and cold
It does not know
This place is it's home...
© John Lowe Poem
-HOPE-
In this time of fear
Our eyes are filled with tears
Why are we crying?
Why are the children dying?
Something is happening so fast
That we have little time to react
With the blink of an eye
We raise our hands and say goodbye
How it happened just out of the blue
The earth seems to be ruined
By the hatred of man
The cries echo throughout the land
Do we ever wonder what time of day
When we lost the world gone astray
Do we ever wonder how far
We've come to breaking so many hearts
In this time of fear
We need to listen and hear
Those faithful words full of hope
We've long forgotten somewhere down the road...
© John Lowe Poem
-IF-
If there is one soul out there
That still reaches out to care
Then the world still has a chance
To survive and love again
And if there is a rainbow
After the storm and clouds go
Then the world still has a chance
To believe in hope again
If there is one dove that soars
Above the tanks and wars
Then the world still has a chance
To put peace in hearts again
And if there is a child
Who dares to walk one more mile
Then the world still has a chance
To find that one road again
If that road is ever found
Then we no longer are bound
And the world will have a chance
To find Jesus again...
© John Lowe Poem
-LEADERS-
He shouted, "I have a dream!"
What we all needed to hear
Not just one race, but all human beings
He took away all levels of fear
He marched his people to freedom
Without a thought of turning back
How brave he was to lead them
How beautiful it was to be Black
She must of thought, "the pen is mighter than the sword,"
And wrote the darkest things man could do
She hid in a secret room above the floor
Saw the things evil could put a man through
When the train carried her to her final place
No one knew she had written her own Bible of goodness
A book read by all, even of all race
How brave it was to be Jewish
Why must we remember the dark things of this world?
But never remember that strong leader or the thoughts of that girl
We have to remember them and many more
When they chose to become leaders of this world...
© John Lowe Poem
-LOCH NESS-
No one believe in what I say
They laugh at me ever so loud
It doesn't come on a bright, sunny day
It doesn't reveal when there's a crowd
It hides beneath the surface
Covering it's entire form and shape
I know it does this on purpose
To make me like an animal in a cage
For I am the only one
Who's seen it with my own eyes
It doesn't show when they come
Just me standing alone on the shoreline
A monster is hiding beneath the waters
I know so positively that it's there
It's shadow like a ghostly figure
Swimming around in it's lair
I am alone now and here it comes!
It's ghastly form arises out of the water so cold
I go insane, I want to tell but there's no one
There is a monster deep within the rivers of my soul...
© John Lowe Poem
-LOST PARADISE-
There are so many lost and confused souls
Some haven't any faith to hold
Others don't believe in the High Supreme anymore
These are the one who mistakenly stepped through the door
The entrance to the forgotten universe
Where violent demons tell them how much their lives aren't worth
A world where sorrow and pain dominates with so many lies
These tortured souls forever trapped in the lost paradise
Now there are faithful ones like you who do not want to think of a place like that
But we must remember the weary ones who will never come back
We must close our eyes and pray
That they live their eternal lives in color, not in the shades of gray
And if, "it's not my fault," is what you say
Then you are the ones who are not compassionate, cause we must show the way
For there are still so many who get lost
In that world where time forgot
We must show them to door to Christ
And not the door that will close and lock them up forever in the lost paradise...
© John Lowe Poem
-MOTHER-
My broken heart, the tears I shed
My sorrowful voice, the cuts I bled
But what was worst of all the grief
Was that you weren't there for me
My castle crumbled and fell
Every part of my body diminished into hell
But what was worst than my soul falling like a leaf
Was that you weren't there for me
The hurtful words I had heard
Saying I was a dumb, foolish jerk
You were supposed to say, "it's okay, everything's okay,"
But I saw and heard nothing when you just walked away
Leaving me in a world I cannot control
Everything is just too hard to hold
That I let go and I fall, fall away
Fall into a dark scary place
I really believed in you, I really loved you
It slapped me in the face when I saw nothing in you
How could you cut me away from you, like a knife
When you were the one who gave me life...
© John Lowe Poem
-ONE HUNDRED YEARS AGO-
The voices of those who lived one hundred years ago
Can still be heard across America like a ghostly echo
The rightful owners who first came still can't believe
The Trail Of Tears happened to the Cherokee
The execution of three hundred Sioux families
Their ghostly cries can still be heard at Wounded Knee
Though many would like to forget that horrible show
But their voices can still be heard from one hundred years ago
They marched ten thousand members
To the concentration camps of Fort Sumner
They tried so hard to terminate the Navajo
But we are still here today from one hundred years ago
The Nez Perce came so close to the Canada border
But were forced to return with threatening orders
Hopelessness and despair filled their weary souls
It was an event that happened one hundred years ago
They came and tried to eradicate our culture, our beliefs
But the spreading of their gospel was weak
Because today we have something to hold
The language, stories, prayers and songs of one hundred years ago...
© John Lowe Poem
-THE CASTLE-
My body is like a castle upon a hill
Dark and mysterious is what I feel
And when you look into my eyes
Those are the blackened windows dark as night
My mind is like the castle stairs
It twists and turn everywhere
My soul is like the cast chambers
So many hallways leaves me confused and angered
My memories are like the castle doors
They slam and echo throughout every floor
My breath is like the castle atmosphere
It is filled with a mistly, cold air
My heart is like the castle tables and chairs
It is broken and thrown everywhere
My bones are like the castle walls
They are old and ready to fall
Torture and pain are all so real
Because my body is like that castle upon a hill...
© John Lowe Poem
-THE GATES OF TIME-
The youngest of souls pass through the gates of time
Their guardians are to be left alone to cry
The world in which many choices are offered
Often leads the youngest of souls to suffer
The world in which many hands are used
To break the proud and to leave the child abused
Voices of angry monsters shout into the air
Confuses the child into a soul without a care
The mouth of a child is rarely fed
So they feed their bodies with harmful substance instead
The quiet, awful secrets that operate at home
Makes the youngest of souls to wak the streets alone
The cause of complex gadgets made by man
Leaves the effect of war on land
Where the youngest of souls try to put the puzzle together
But seems the enigma of man's hate remains hidden forever
The eldest of man's generation still hope for that one day
Where the child can smile, run and play
But their guardians are to be left alone to cry
As the youngest of souls pass through the gates of time...
© John Lowe Poem
THE OLD HOUSE-
I am a old house who stands weak at the end of the road
A few years back, a family lived here with nothing but love to hold
But since their son died, they moved away
Now I am rotting old, day by day
In front of me is the garden with nothing but weeds
I look at the other gardens where humans are planting new seeds
Some young humans take a chance at sleeping over night
Because they think I am haunted for all they see is a scary sight
But I am too old and too scared
To be chasing kids out of here
Some neighborhood kids will shout and call
To invite their friends to rape me by spray painting my walls
My floorboards crack and squeak all the time
The arthritis of that makes me cry
Eight legged monsters make their home in me
I don't like their strings all over my body
There's nothing left to do but weep and cry
And to live each and every day and night
With nowhere left to go
I am a old house who stands weak at the end of the road...
© John Lowe Poem
-THE RUNAWAY-
A tear falls from a face unknown
Standing in the midst of the crowd
Yet the feeling is all alone
Standing ashamed, not proud
The skin torn and bruised
The same clothes worn over a week
Begging for shelter and food
Asking for shoes to cover his feet
He did not ask to be here
He did not ask to come
But he is poor, trembling with fear
And it's sad to know he's not the only one
His hands are young and small
Trying so hard to reach for hope
But is turned away and his faith falls
And his prayers vanishes like smoke
No one feels for this being
All alone and so scared
Pain is his only feeling
All the demons are there
Within his body and mind
They are tearing apart his soul
They are in there all the time
There is nothing left to believe, nothing left to hold
His body is so young and weak
Barely picked from a tree
But old enough to know
The life on the streets
A tear falls from a face unknown
Standing in the midst of the crowd
Yet the feeling is all along
Standing ashamed, not proud
Another child bruised and beated and weak
Runs away from home
For life on the streets...
© John Lowe Poem
-THE UNHOLY LAND-
A depressing view of such isolated sight
The ghastly shapes of trees stand tall in the night
Some trees have been dead for years
The place showing me is had cried with tears
This place begging for a human soul to come
And plant new seeds that will grow with the help of the sun
But no one has ever dared to enter this unholy land
Because the sight is too scary for anyone to understand
That this wretched place needs help
This place can't change itself
Some trees point outward like a child would reach out it's hand when lost and scared
The soil so dirty and old that no roses will ever grow there
The heavens sadly hang low
Because they realize the devil has this place in control
The light fog or mist has covered the ground for years
Oh yes, there is a river, but it is the land crying it's tears
This land so ashamed of itself because to the east and west are two beautiful mountains
To the north and south are green patches of grass being fed by a fresh clean fountain
So alone and afraid, this place gave up every hope that no one will ever come
This place believes the evil curse will never be undone...
© John Lowe Poem
-THREE RAINBOWS-
The three main problems we face today
Is something we will soon escape
Don't worry, it'll be all over soon
And no longer will the world be ruined
People are judged by their color
Being mistreated by others
All the hate continues on
But they will soon be gone
Bombs explode all over enemy land
No one can remember when this war began
They point their guns at each other
But we will soon be sisters and brothers
Some people can't afford a piece of bread
They are being turned away instead
All the poverty lingers on
But we will soon be gone
Three rainbows will come, replacing each problem
These rainbows will chase away the demons and goblins
All the peace, love and harmony will finally show
Because of the three rainbows...
© John Lowe Poem
-WAR-
The wolved are gathering at the gate
Their souls filled with anger and hate
They can't wait to press the trigger
Thinking it will make them bigger
But the mold of God's image
Melts into filth and pillage
Leaves a distorted picture of their soul
Again proclaiming the devil is in control
His uniform is decorated with so many awards and pins
But it is the death of a child that gave it to him
You say you do it to protect our country
From another nation bringing atrocity
But how can we protect our own country if we can't protect our own men
From the military training of these sins
The senseless things people fight for until they're dead
All because of a combination of red, white and blue threads
It seems colors are far more important than the cross
Tell me where did it all become lost
When people began mixing God with war
Because I'm sure that's not what He created us for...
© John Lowe Poem
