Do you believe?

I believe in one God

Our Saviour and Lord

Jesus Christ

Who I might

Add died one night

For us

On the cross

For our sins

That have been



He suffered

And was condemned

Tortured to no end

Tried and crucified

Oh my

When Jesus was sentenced to die

For us

On the cross

For our sins

That we won’t let go

Instead we show

Our response of the word no

By living in the world

And not in His word

Which we all have heard

And deferred

So that we can be worldly

And not Holy.


How many of you are like Judas

Who betrayed Jesus

The King of Jews,

All you had to do was choose.


But wait, your life you’re going to have to lose.



Oh, not you?

Then I wonder who?


Distance Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

They say that distance makes the heart grow fonder.
Of what do they mean?
Fond of never speaking again?
Fond of missing that person?
Fond of forgetting?
Fond of all the accumulated memories?

I don’t see any meaning in that statement.
One can be separated for several years and reconnect and another can do the same and smile, chat for a minute and disappear again.

My words are vague and my meaning is sure.
I have been away for so long, and God has been waiting on me patiently to come back into his arms where I belong.
I can’t believe it’s been so long, but God I’m here, and I’m willing to stay.
Just show me the way.


What do you know about me?
Don’t judge a book by it’s cover.
My cover may be wood, brick, paper, silk, cotton.
My outward appearance may be dull, hard, weak, appealing.
But it isn’t necessarily who I am inside
To be honest
I don’t even know who i truly am.
Who are you truly?
Beneath the surface,
What kind of person are you?
People tell me what kind of person they think I am.
If it’s something I hear quite often,
and from observations of my own actions,
I can assume some things about myself.
What do people tell you about yourself?
What do you believe?
What kind of cover do you have?
Is your cover embedded with gems?
With diamonds and rhinestones?
With spikes?
Or s it just paper, or some other type of cloth.
Will it catch on fire?
Is it fire-resistant?
You and I won’t know if we don’t try, or take a couple of risks.

What is your shell type?
Rough? Hard? Soft? Smooth? Fragile? Tough?
Is it hard to break?

It’s Alright

When something happens, they say;
“It’s Alright”,
If we get hurt, they say;
“It’s Alright”,
It isn’t always alright, you know.
It’s not alright: when we’re in pain,
When we’re grieving, when we’re troubled.
Instead you fool us with your ‘sweet talking’ and your lies,
And that “Alright” we were wishing for
Becomes a “Horrible” we don’t want.
Instead, why don’t you say;
“It’s going to be alright”,
“It’ll be better”,
At least we won’t hurt in the end when it turns out to be not alright,
At least you tried to comfort me,
Nevertheless in the wrong way,
By bringing me hope,
Then crushing is like Santa’s Clause’s sparking globe:
All the snow scattered,
All my hope shattered.
The glass broken into shards,
My strength diminshed.
And you’re okay right?
I’m glad you are.
I’m glad you’re not troubles as I am.
I wish you future happiness,
Not future sadness.
So just remember,
Even if people tell you that “It’s Alright”,
Know in your heart, that it’s not just alright,
But it’s gonna be alright.


So young, yet so old. That’s what Emily Baker is. Someone with a 6 year old body and the mind of a 30 year old who had seen so much. At the age of 4, she learned to read and write. She was ecstatic every time her parents came home so she could learn more.

All she needed was 1 year, homeschooled and she was ready to enter grade 8. Little Emily was a fast learner, and her parents took advantage of this. It was clear to them at an early stage that their child had a photographic memory, so all they had to do was teach her to read. It wasn’t much of a problem because of her ability to learn quickly.

In addition to her academic achievements, they also taught her how to be the perfect liar and how to wrap them around her little fingers.

At age 5, she was the richest kid on earth, even richer than Bill Gates. How she became this rich you wonder?


She conned them.

As per request from her parents, she used her exceptional lying skills and photographic memory to con people as well as threaten them with information that she overheard. Before long, there were monthly deposits of over 100 thousand being deposited into various bank accounts by various persons.

The days after Emily’s 6th birthday were days she would never forget.

One morning when Emily woke up, she saw her parents missing. She searched the whole house until she got back to her room, completely lost and numb. Who would she go to now? Her parents were missing and she had no idea if she had any relatives or not.

Even though Emily had lost her parents, she knew that she had to continue living her life, with or without them.

At the age of sixteen, as Emily sat her apartment flat, she thought about her childhood days.

At the time, it seemed like lots of fun but when she really thought about it, her parents had been using her. She was just a puppet. In a way she was glad they had died, but yet she missed them.
Why, she thought, why use me? The only answer that Emily could come up with was that her parents were gold diggers. Why take advantage of a little girl with a photographic memory… no… Why take advantage of their own daughter just to earn money?

Emily was disgusted with herself after realising how her life had been. Picking up her phone, she called the bank and immediately donated money to various charity. Each charity foundation got ten thousand each. By the end of the day, Emily was at least 1 million dollars poorer than she was the day before.

And she was okay with it. After all, even though her innocence was taken away from her by none other than her parents, and she couldn’t take back all that she’d done, she’d do anything in her will to benefit others, and she’d continue doing it until the day she died.


How can you see?
See into me,
See all the things
I’ve desperately tried not to be.
But they’re attached,
They’ll never let go,
No matter whatever
May come or go,
Doesn’t matter if it’s good
Or even bad,
If it makes me happy
Or even sad,
The only way you’ll see,
Is if I choose to reveal,
My past, of various events,
All stored in my memory.

Just Set Me Free

I want to talk to you,

You’re never there,

I just want to say hello,

But you ignore me,

What should I do then?

What happened to us?

Once upon a time,

A long, long time ago,

We were so close,

So close that no one knew-

Not even us-

Where one of us ended and the other began

Yeah… we were that close.

Not anymore…

Now… we’re so far away

That watching each other

Would be like watching a blurred figure.

I don’t know what you want…

But what I want

Is to be like how it was in the past,

Not just you and me,

But everyone else as well.

Because I don’t like what’s going on now,

And I’m tempted to let what we had go,

Throw it away; give it all up,

Even though it would hurt me deeply in the near future,

So I’m asking…

Please help me…

Don’t make me do this on my own,

I can’t do things by myself,

I need someone else.

Let me know

Whether you want this

To last or not,

Just tell me.

If I cry,

I cry.

If I get angry… well,

I just get angry.

And if I care,

Then I care.

Tell me your answer,

And say it now,

There’s no

Later… no

‘In five minutes’… no

In a while… and no



This won’t work out if this is how things are going to be.

What’s your answer?

Tell me now.

Set me free…

Set me free from this burden I hold,

From trying to keep this relationship up and running.

Just tell me.

Set me free,

Leave me be,

All so I can become happy,

Or sad as the case may be.

But it would be better if,

I knew what to do now,

Rather than carrying this pain,

Throughout the incoming years,

The pain growing larger, day by day.

So just tell me what you want,

Tell me please…

And just set me free.