The Lady With The Pro-Life Sign - a poem by Alfred

She stands on the street where women's minds part/
Like a candlelight glowing defiantly in the dark/
She aims to help women see the right path/
So their feet isn't bloodied in the Future by the Past/
No amount of soap can wash away the past/
No amount of tears can bring a Life back/
A bucket of regret can't buy happiness back/
And a spoonful of Relief is your humanity retired/
She is Hope to the Soul that lives within your womb/
Fully Developed waiting for the Body to follow suit/
What words can justify wearing a Killer's Suit /
What excuse Stands to end Life's cue/

My Safe Place - a poem by Alfred

When Fear encircles me like a pack of wolves/
And enemy teeth sparkle through smiles under the moon/
Failure's lips waters at the Dream of my Tomb/
As Pride sizes my heart for its next swimming pool/
Lust plays cool, but waiting to play too/
As Greed's hands jumps forward to knock out my tooth/
I'm cornered on every side by a potential bruise/
Of Potential Sins with Real Shadows upon my shoes/
But when the inevitable is inevitable/
The Author of Life rewrites the inevitable/
Cause my heart hosts his Ghost permanently/
And I exist within Him permanently/
I would never step out of Him temporarily/
For its exposure to be jumped temporarily/

To Be A Man - a poem by Alfred

To be a man is not a day's job/
To be a man is the ambition of every boy/
To be a man is to grow roots beneath your foot/
So you would stand firm when storms run towards you/
To be a man is to stretch the width of your chest/
With the Pride of Achievement under Hardwork's belt/
To be a man is to let experience stroke your beard/
As Wisdom combs your head softly with no end/
To be a man is to provide your family with bread/
So Hunger remains a Stranger, Never a friend/
To be a man is to grow shoulders strong and wide/
To carry the weight of the world and take easy strides/
To be a man is the hardest job in the world/
But to be a man you mustn't think it's hard at all/
It's just you being you, born for the hardest job/
To be a man is Hardwork, and it's not a day's job/

Celebrate Jesus Everyday - a poem by Alfred

Celebrate Jesus Everyday/
Whether it's Hot or when it Rains/
If Sorrow calls you by your name/
Don't turn and look, just raise His name/

Jesus is Lord, Everyday/
So never fret on any day/
The Master of both night and day/
Loves you more than you love cake/

Celebrate Jesus Everyday/
When your eyelids open every new day/
Not all who went to bed yesterday/
Had the privilege to wake up today/

Choose Celebration Everyday/
Joy or Pain, Which do you take?/
Those who seek reasons to celebrate/
Spend their lives Searching, Not Celebrating/

A Passion For Souls - a poem by Alfred

As I look out my window and behold the world below/
A stampede of human feet; some with purpose, all with goals/
Race under the hot sun whose fury could fry gold/
Yet they press on without heed, only goals take their toll/
But are their goals righteous, do they have real purpose?/
Do they know why they are here beyond their Gold Rush woes?/
Are they stepping into the footprints God predestined?/
Or are slaves in the race of mice and cheese?/
Success is determined by the Maker's dream/
How can you tell if you Win if you don't know His Will/
Who can tell a purpose is fulfilled when it's unknown/
What product isn't a waste without a nailed purpose/
That's what I see when I look out my window/
A lot of folks living without beginning living/
But how would they know if they're not told/
So I've got a passion for souls to begin their beginning/