Not Today
I will forgive you someday,
But that day will not be today
It will not be this very moment
Or tonight when you might pray
And It will not be tomorrow
Or the next day after that
But I will forgive you someday
And that is the only fact.
I will speak with you someday,
But today is the day that I won't speak
Today is the day that I am deaf and dumb
And your voice I currently don't seek
It will not be anytime soon
When I want to hear your voice again
As now your voice just gets me ill
So speaking to you, I know not when.
I will look upon you someday,
But today I don't want to see your face
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poem by Randy McClave
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I Would Do For You
The Mother looks into the eyes of her child,
With the love that is so deep and true
Then she hugs her child and loves her child,
And says, “ there is nothing that I would not do for you”.
She loves her child more than she does herself
She’ll places her child above all others
For the child she would die, And not even ask why,
As the child is hers, and she is the mother.
She knows she’ll will always be there for her child
No matter the pain or a reason why,
Just to see it smile or hear it laugh
It is the greatest joy that a mother wont hide.
She will follow her child throughout her life
That being the reason why she says she lives
The love is so great for a mother and her child,
That there is nothing that she would not do or give.
She thinks of her child constantly when she is alone
She knows no pain or discomfort when the child is near,
She is only here to make her child happy and wise
While hoping never to bring her child a tear.
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poem by Randy McClave
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The Last Days
What if the world was coming to an end
And we knew that day would be tomorrow
Would we search for family or even a friend
Or would we just hide and cry in sorrow,
Would we think about and also regret our sins
That we have committed to ourselves and unto others
Remember while we suffer the devil he grins
Especially when we have wronged our sisters and brothers,
Would the non believers then pray to a GOD
To a being they had ignored and would not believe
While the true believers would hold out their hands and nod
As they accept their judgement and their destiny,
Would anyone ask for forgiveness from the ones they hurt
And hope that GOD would forgive them as they did pray
Or maybe they will try to change and then covert
As they know that tomorrow would be their very last day,
I wonder if anyone would knock upon my door
Just to say that they are sorry or maybe even goodbye
Besides the people that came to my house before
Would they only be sorry, knowing soon that they will die,
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poem by Randy McClave
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Valley of Death
As someday I will head towards the valley of death
I will not head there with any sorrow or regret
I will head there with a joyful and a peaceful soul
While knowing that in my life caring did flow.
I will not had lied or cheated any woman or man
When it came to those traits I made my stand
I was loyal and devout to all whom I did meet
And from sadness or pity I caused no one to weep.
I never blamed my problems on anyone else
As I knew what was mine and my pride was my wealth
I never stole or robbed, never took what wasn't mine
As my promise to my soul I would commit no crime.
To my family and friends I will bring no pity or shame
If they ever think about me by remembering my name
I will not be remembered as a boastful or bragging man
On my own two feet alone, is how I always did stand.
The commandments of GOD I always did keep
And his truth and his ways I truly always did seek
Though sometimes a weak minded man I truly was
But those were the days and times, when I was in love.
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poem by Randy McClave
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Mrs. Hitchcock
Hello Mrs. Hitchcock
I hope truly you are doing well
I hope life has been very good to you
But that as time, someday it will tell.
And how are your beautiful daughters
I hope too they are doing fine
I hope they became wonderful women
I hope too they are gentle and very kind.
I hope they are seeking their destiny
In this hard world which we know as life
A hard journey for either woman or man
Or maybe, they became a mother and a wife.
Tell me do they have the beauty of their mother
And also do they have the eyes of their dad,
Do they both like to joke and laugh and enjoy life
And do they cry, when they are very sad.
Do they help others when they are in trouble
The way that you also had taught them to do
And do they sing when they are very happy
And are they virtuous, and also so very true.
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poem by Randy McClave
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How Could You
How can you talk about cheating
If that is how you live your life,
And how can you talk against lying
If all you did and taught was how to lie,
How can you talk about morality
When you have used so many men,
And how can you talk about honesty
If you have stole before, and once again,
How can you talk about your loyalty
When you talk behind everyone's back,
Even the ones who loved and cared for you
Whom you falsely judge, then accuse and attack.
How can you talk about being a good mother
When you leave your Children all alone,
And how can you be a good roll model for anyone
If your always in a different mans home.
How can you talk about God and religion
When you believe God himself doesn't exist
And how can you think people care for you
When you they will scratch off of their list.
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poem by Randy McClave
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God's Hand's
I have worried about the things,
In which that I cannot control
Which causes me so much pain
And so much strain upon my soul.
Friends and family tell me not to worry
About the things I cant do anything about
So finally I agree to them one and all
And with the devil, I have fought my last bout.
I realized I cannot control the hatred
Nor more can I control sins or lying
These are worries that I think about
Also along with sadness and crying.
As we all live in our lifetime
So many problems will head our way
Some that we are the master of
And some which will make us feel betrayed.
So as I have my own problems
Which all of course they are man made
By evil and sins that are created daily
And someday there memories will all fade.
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poem by Randy McClave
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Who Will You Blame
When you have no one to blame
Then who will you blame
For your suffering and your pain,
Would you blame it on GOD
Though to me that would seem odd
But would you, or could you, blame GOD.
When you then begin to suffer
Over hate or pain or some other
And you cant blame it on one or another,
Who will you then decide
That made you suffer and then made you cry
Especially, with no one at your side.
When you are there all alone
Inside of your empty home
And no one can hear you moan,
You are just there
And for you no one does care
So no one offers you a prayer.
When you have made a mistake
Maybe instead of giving you did take
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poem by Randy McClave
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Iron Bars Of Mine
I stand behind these old iron bars,
To see the things, that I can see
I see a world that is changing everyday,
A world, that will not wait for me.
Behind these iron bars where I must lay,
Behind these bars where I must stay.
In this world where I am alone
Its a world that I helped build,
I make not the laws for how I live,
Time for me, she is held still.
As tomorrow is the same as it is today,
And today is the same, as yesterday.
Behind these bars, its where I am
It is the place where I sit and lie,
My destiny for me has already been chose,
For this is the place where I will die.
When the youth of mine turns into old,
When the dewdrops of dreams turn into snow.
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poem by Randy McClave
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Never Her Name
As I went to reflect and relax in the steam room
Thinking only about GOD, and you know whom
She being the woman who was once my mate
But now she is gone, along with her deceit and hate,
Never again will I want to speak her name
As it reminds me of her cheating, and also her shame
Nor do I want to hear her name spoken to me again
As it brings to my mind all of her lies and her sin,
I wonder if her name will be in the book of life
As she made a mockery of love and also being a wife
But I think her name will not be written down
So in the lake of fire she probably will drown,
She lives a life with her sins and evil deeds
Planting more sins, as a farmer plants his seeds
She blames others as though it's never her own fault
That is her excuse, which you take with a grain of salt,
She lives a life which is a sin and a lie
No one truly knows her, if they did she they would deny
She walks the same road in every town and or city
Living in regret and disappointment and always seeking pity,
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poem by Randy McClave
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