Saint Or Death?

i see him coming down the road
in his hand a sickle he holds.
he is dressed in a long black robe
torn and tattered and mighty old.
he is coming with a smile upon his face
his arms outstretched in an unfriendly embrace.
there is blood dripping from his sickle
and for your life, it's not worth a plumb nickel.

she started to scream in horror and dismay.
why are you here? please go away!

HE SAID: i can not leave for i have come for you
to GOD and life, you was untrue.
you turned your back on your family
when they tried to help you the most.
you went to church and denied the HOST.
you claimed that everything in your life was taken away
and to GOD you would not pray.
you stormed out of church with bitterness in your heart

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poem by Louis Rams
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Stories Of Hope Series #1 living in poverty-the trapper and family

Born high in the mountains of Tennessee
With no running water, or electricity.
Living in rags that her father found in the woods
Was her only salvation, her only goods.
They put her in pampers that they had found
Dirty and filthy and pulled from the ground.
A rock stove and firewood
They would eat when they could.
He did fishing and trapping just to survive.
The closest neighbor was twenty miles away
By the time he walked there he would have to stay.
The neighbor would take all that he trapped
In return give him food, clothing, ammunition and fat.
The neighbor then told him:
This is no way to raise a child.
You’ve been in the mountains quite a while.
Things have changed drastically
In school is where this child should be.
This child must learn how to read and write
What you’re doing to her, just isn’t right.

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poem by Louis Rams
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The Stranger (story)

(story 03/14/11)

I saw a man coming down the road
Head held high, eyes were strong.
He stopped and asked of me
If he could have a bite to eat.

His clothes were all torn and tattered
I asked him what was the matter.
He looked at me and his eyes turned down
His face changed from a smile to a frown.

Hard times I have come across
I was let go by my boss
He said the times was making him downsize
And he had to let go of people to survive.
Everyone was doing the same
People losing their jobs was quite a shame.

Being a farmer who had hard times too

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poem by Louis Rams
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