Bring Me Flowers
Bring me flowers when I am living
Don't bring me them when I am dead
Let me enjoy them in the giving
My mother always had said.
Let me hold them in my hands
and smell there fragrant scent
Then I will reminisce of different lands
Before; I am heaven sent.
I will reflect back when I was young
Or I might think back not long ago
When I walked underneath the sun
Or when I felt the wind as it blowed.
Bring me flowers when I am here
Please don't wait until I am gone
So I might reflect to a different year
And my memories will last on.
I might reflect to a different time
With every breadth and scent I breath
And knowing the flowers are mine
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poem by Randy McClave
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Here Lie's The truth
“Here Lies the truth”,
On Her tombstone this will be wrote.
It was never spoke when She was living,
So also in death, it will be unspoke.
By Her it was never said
it was as though pulling out Her soul,
So here lies the truth and herself dead
Both has died in sadness and woe.
Here lies the truth,
Not once by her was it cried,
Not in the days that she was living,
Not even in the day that She had died.
She must of believed that it was a sin
To open Her heart and listen to the word
So She closed her heart and locked it shut,
And She never believed in no one but Her.
Here lies the truth,
It lived but a very short life,
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poem by Randy McClave
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The DREAM
I went to bed the other night
And woke up with a terrible fright
I dreamed I saw Christ the Lord
And I helped nail Him to the board
Pain and agony in his eye
And me a wishing He would only die
For what kind of GOD could he be
If He even couldn't set himself free.
The hours for Christ went slowly on by
Jesus surely must wish to die,
Some people began to laugh and some to cry
This man named Christ must surely wish to die.
Then lightning shown and thunder was heard
Christ began to speak a word
My body my blood I just have gave
So your souls they all could be saved
Some people quietened and some began to cry
For our salvation Jesus Christ must die,
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poem by Randy McClave
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Jesus Walk
The other day I was weeping
The tears kept coming to my eyes
But then I looked out my window
As though pleaded, to look outside.
But my tears just kept falling
Caused by the worries and world outside
As the hate and sin kept growing
From which, no one can hide.
So then I brushed the world aside
As compelled to search the sky
And then; I shook in wonder,
For I saw Jesus, walking at sunrise.
He was walking with out stretched hands
Though reaching for every woman and man
And I, didnt make a sound,
For I was lost, and never found.
I watched him walk with such concern
As He watched the world below
He walked with such shame and pity
My teardrops, began to grow.
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poem by Randy McClave
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What A Man Becomes
When a man falls in love he becomes a lover
Above his woman he puts no other
And when he closes his eyes, she will materialize
And never does he want to be with another.
He thinks about his love every day and night
As he wants to always keep her in his heart and sight
And when he is alone, To the world it is known
That she is his life and also his light.
When a man is cheated on he becomes a cynic
His love and their life he will then mock and mimic
In his heart there buns a hate, which he cant forsake
As his soul and mind seems as though to forever ache
She stays in his thoughts every night and day
He wonders what she did to turn herself that way
Then when he's with his friends, they too confirm her sins
And for him and not her they will sit and talk and pray.
When a man is cheated on by his wife he becomes a poet
Then of their life and relationship to all he will show it
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poem by Randy McClave
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The Lover
When a man falls in love he becomes a lover
Above his woman he puts no other
And when he closes his eyes, she will materialize
And never does he want to be with another.
He thinks about his love every day and night
As he wants to always keep her in his heart and sight
And when he is alone, To the world it is known
That she is his life and also his light.
When a man is cheated on he becomes a cynic
His love and their life he will then mock and mimic
In his heart there buns a hate, which he cant forsake
As his soul and mind seems as though to forever ache.
She stays in his thoughts every night and day
He wonders what she did to turn herself that way
Then when he's with his friends, they too confirm her sins
And for him and not her they will sit and talk and pray.
When a man is cheated on by his wife he becomes a poet
Then of their life and relationship to all he will show it
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poem by Randy McClave
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Heaven To Gain
As I wake up each morning
And as I begin to start a new day
I wipe the night out of my eyes
And on my knees to GOD I pray.
I ask him to please watch over me,
And protect me from all evil and sin
As I know Its everywhere that I look
And its after all women and men.
I try to live my life the best I can
And I try to stay away from sin that's within
But that's the best offer made by any man
So I must pray over again, and again.
I think about what I had endeavored
Temptation and evil it is everywhere
From the things we do and the words we say
Its around the corner and it is in the air.
So I keep the promises that I do make
And also the vows that I do swear
If I break them or neglect them any
At my soul, sin and evil would tear.
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poem by Randy McClave
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Making Of A Man
Man doesn't want to beg or rob
To support himself he needs and wants a job
And when he does, he'll do the best that he can
And truly what he does, makes himself a man,
He doesn't want to rely by the support of others
Whether they be friends or strangers, or sisters or brothers
He wants to build and support with his own two hands
As that is truly, what makes himself a man,
He wants to be proud of how he lives his life
As he would rather give than take, from the needy in life
The calluses on his hands shows where he has been
As being a lazy man, he will never be accused of that sin,
Everything he owns he has paid for and bought
From the work he has done, the possessions he sought
And the pride started when he could either begged or steal
But then he knows that life is either a sweet or sour pill,
He lives by his pride and his honor is his work
Supporting himself and his family is his greatest perk
He will continue this tradition until he cannot anymore
When his body is tired, and his muscles are sore,
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poem by Randy McClave
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No More Praise
Once they said you were so sweet
But now they say that you are a cheat
So maybe then someday you might learn
Your deeds speak louder than any word
As you think walking down your street.
Once they said your soul was loyal
But now they say its used and soiled
So I say this to you my dear, dear friend
If you did once before you will do it again
You once had nothing but now you are spoiled.
Once they said you were knowledgeable
Now they say that you are intolerable
As you think your better than everyone else
And no one is as smart as yourself
Now your ways and acts are unpardonable.
Once they said you were very honest
But then you became very dishonest
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poem by Randy McClave
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Tired of It All
I am done with all the fighting
And all the screaming and reciting
From your cheating and the denying
And all of the sins and your lying.
I have given up all the praying
For your abusiveness and straying
And the sins that you keep displaying
And all of your stealing and betraying.
I am tired of all the sleepless nights
When you wanted to argue and also fight
You left our home and was out of my sight
So you could lay at another mans side.
I am so sick of all of your sinning
Seems daily more of its beginning
I pray to GOD that it would be ending
Which you knew what was offending.
I am so sad that you are never here
And when you are you just disappear
I will not cry another tear
Your voice now I solemnly ever hear.
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poem by Randy McClave
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