I missed the games that children played,
the spring kites, summer marbles and, winters sled.
My childhood was not like those of most,
there's not even a time of which I could boast,
even my teen years never reached their peak,
for there's nothing in them that I'm proud of to speak,
in fact, there is little that I care to remember,
including that cold day, one lonely December.
The day I was born was such a delight,
the day I came forth, one Christmas eve night,
I cried and squirmed and kicked up a storm,
all the things babies do the minute they're born.
But after a while I accepted my fate,
to live in this world of misery and hate,
though I never knew where to begin,
I wasn't content just looking in.
Then I thought, "there has to be more",
so I picked up a book and began to explore.
I read one whole day, and into another,
The 'Holy Bible' was written on the cover.
It fascinated me through and through,
I held such secrets I never knew.
I got thirst and hungry for more,
I had to know who this book was for.
The day soon came when I was relieved,
to know this book was for 'ALL' who believed,
in Jesus the Christ who died to erase,
the penalty that belonged to the whole human race.
The drugs and stealing didn't mean a thing,
if I picked up my cross and confessed my sins.
Now I know to whom I belong,
He took me from outside into His home.
Far from the lonely night in December,
I finally have something I care to remember,
like when Jesus Christ rose from the grave,
to announce to the world that 'ALL CAN' be saved.