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JUST A DROP





 
 
JUST A DROP  
 

 

Just a tiny drop of rain,

 

Sliding down a window pane,

 

On a futile useless journey,

 

With no purpose or no gain.

 

 

Then another drop of rain,

 

Falling from a darkened sky,

 

Onto a  wilted rosebud,

 

It's beauty to revive.

 

 

Just a tiny drop of water,

 

Hanging from the faucet's lip,

 

Waiting for the perfect time,

To become a nagging drip.

 

 

Then another drop of water,

 

On Lazarus' fingertip,

 

Could quench the rich man's thirst,

 

From the torment of hell's grip.

 

 

Just an artifical teardrop,

 

Rolling down an uncaring cheek,

 

Of a hypocritical Christian,

Trying to look humble and meek.

 

 

Then another tiny teardrop,

 

Weeping from the corner of an eye,

 

Showing the grief and the heartache,

 

As another love one dies.

 

 

Just a tiny drop of blood,

 

On the priest's shining knife,

 

From a sacrificial lamb,

 

That could not give eternal life.

 

 

Then another drop of blood,

 

Oozing 'round the piercing nail,

 

A drop of blood so priceless,

 

It can save one's soul from hell.

 
Rozita D. Martin    
copyrighted
7/14/1997
Poems by Pancakke
PLEASE RESPECT THE COPYRIGHT