in search of a song vol. 536

8/3/2019 In Search of a Song Vol. 536

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VirginiaGraham


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VirginiaGrahamA Waterways Project

Publication

Richard SpiegelBarbara Fishercodirectors

Thomas Perryadministrative assistant

Denise C. BergstromTeacher

Career Education CenterSherry Zekowski

Principal

Richard OrganisciakSuperintendentAlternative. Adult and Continuing Education

Schools & Programs 1998 Ten Penny Playerswith funding support fromthe NY State Council on the Arts


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WHAT IS LOVELove is a feeling,it's not just a wordto have it in your heart.It's worth more than pearls.It's something you can't bottleor put it on a shelf.It's something that you havedeep inside yourself.It's a comfort to the lonely,the sad and the blue,because love is somethingthat the sun shines through.So spread it aroundand let the world seethe difference it will makefor you and for me.

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AN ADEQUATE LIFEI live in an adequate town,on an adequate street,with adequate peoplewho are adequately neat.I read adeq uate books,sing adequate songs,spend time meditatingadequately alone.I work at an adequate job,in an adequate place,with an adequate bosswho has an adequate taste.I take adequate vacationsin adequate places,meet lots of new peoplewith adequate faces.I have adequate friendswho spend adequate timesitting and discussingour adequate minds.I live an adequate life,hope to die at an adequate time,be buried in an adequate gravewith adequate peace of mind.

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5/22

AWASTED LIFEI wasted many yearsdrifting from town to town.Never made any friendshipsthat lasted any time.A ll that I ownedIcould carry with me,but that's the price you paywhen you want to he free.Ilept on park benches,sometimes in a motel,Ieven spent a couple of nightsin the county's jail.No family, no friends,That's the way Iwanted it to be,cause that urge never left me,the need to be free.Now that I'm oldand my life is near the end,I regret not havingany family or friends.There will be no mourning,no flowers or sad songs,the day I'm laid to restI'll be there all alone.

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6/22

MOTHER WAITSWho will love my childrenwhen I have gone away?Who will clothe and feed themand hug them every day?Who will wash their facesand send [hem off to school?Who will take the timeto teach them the golden rule?Who will stand beside themthe day they finish school,or hold them in her armswhen they are made to feel like fools?Who will be beside themwhen it's time to die?I'll be waiting for themup in the big blue sky.


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LOVE AND COURAGEA black was broughtto the country in chains,auctioned off by slave traderswho had no morals or shame.Brought to the market placeand put on display,men, women and childrenlost their dignity that day.Mother stood cryingas she watched her children sold.Daddy's heart was heavywith sorrows untold.Slaves worked in the fieldfrom morning till night,with a prayer for God to come,and take them home one night.The master would comeand take the women away;rape and abuse them,there was nothing they could say.


8/22

In the cabin at nightafter the children were fed,mom told them a Story,and sent them off to bed.as she stood over her children's bed,her body would shake in fearthinking that one morning she'd wake up,and her children wouldn't be near.Tears rolled down her face,as the pain would grip her heart,that the master would someday come, 'and tear her family apart.The man fought back his tears,as he would silently praythat God would give him strengthto face another day.As they laid side by side,he would gently touch her cheeks,and the love they shared that moment,even slavery couldn't defeat.

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As they woke up one morning,they knew that it was timeto take their family to freedom,and leave slavery behind.They waited until midnightwhen the master was fast asleep.They took their precious children,and hid down by the creek.Their bodies were tired and weary,they had carried the children for so long,but the thought of being freegave them strength to go on.With the struggle nearly over,they were at their journey's end,because the freedom God had promisedwas JUStaround the bend.Now that the battle was over,and they were finally free,they thank God in heavenfor giving them victory


10/22

HE(To Martin Luther Ling, Jr.)

From the clay hills of Georgia,a young black man stood tall,a task was set before him,he was ready to answer the call.He shared his dreams of freedom,as he spoke before the crowds.His voice thundering the heavenswhile many sat and cried.He cried our for freedom,as he marched across the land,carrying the hopes and dreamsof every black woman and man.He [raveled many miles,his message was loud and clear,he vowed to never stop fightinguntil there was freedom everywhere.

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He spoke with such intensity,cause he wanted folks to seethat blacks didn't want to be special,they only wanted to be free.He fought his battles daily,with no weapon in his hand,cause his blood, sweat, and tearswere rooted in the land.He stood on a hotel balcony,in a small southern townwhen a bullet from the streetbrought the eloquent speaker down.He'll always be rememberedfrom the legacy he left behind,cause the dream that he envisionedis embedded into the peoples' minds.

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COLORBLINDWhat if there was no color,and we all looked the same,we could live next door to each other,and share our heartache and pain.The children would play togetherin the street, all day long.With skin colored the same,who could say it was wrong?That is the kind of worldI hope it will someday be,learning to treat each otherwith love and dignity.

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13/22

PASSIONLike a raging wild firethat burns Out of control,the moment that he met herhe consumed her body and soul.Engulfed by his luscious lips,his passion would unitea hot raging fire in herthat burned through the night.Drunk from the passion of the night,she would walk around in daze,waiting for the moment to cometo be taken to that special place.Spinning like a whirlwind,like a puppet she couldn't stop,because the tall dark strangerhad stolen her heart.

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REFUGEWhen the world gets me down,and I'm at the end of my rope,there's a place I can go to,I call it my corner of hope.My horne is my refuge;I can hide my sorrows there,or share them with someonewho I know that really cares.


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PEOPLEThe world is filled with people,and we each playa part;some are hear to teach,while others need to be taught.There are many who will lead,and those who'll follow behind;while one will know where he is going,one other won't make up his mind.Some people accomplish their dreams,while others will fade away.Some will embrace the morning,others will just face the day.Some seem to always be happy,while others can't seem to smile.Some live their lives to the fullest,others just whither and die.Like a wave on the oceanor a brief summer rain,we are all very different,and yet, we're all the same.

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THE GIFTSYou gave me everythingthat money could buy:the moon, the stars,and castles in (he sky,Diamonds and rubies,pearls and gold chains,but the only thing I wantedwas to share your name.


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A POEMI walk alongin the meadowamong the flowers,so fair,and quietlytalk with Jesus;he always meets me there.I tell him all my troubles,he can always understand,and gently [ can feel himwhen he takes my hand.I have such a wonderful feeling,deep down inside,because I know that Jesusis always by my side.When I wake up in the morning,and get down on my knees to pray,[ thank the Lord in heavenfor letting me see another day.

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BEST FRIENDMy best friend is like a flowerthat blooms in the spring ...She's always there when I need her,and she never complains.She is with me when I'm sick,or if I'm lonely or sad.I tell her all my troubles,and she never gets mad.I love the way she smilesand the way she takes my hand,whispering in a gentle voicethat she understands.My best friend is my sisterand I hope she will always be,because she's one of the special giftsthat God has given to me.

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FABRICATION POEMThe blue skywith snowflakes fallingas big as leaveswith colors like the rainbow.

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AN ANGRY BOYAn angry little boygets hold of a gun,shoots his best friend ...Now, he is on the run.He had no reasonto kill his best friend,but he couldn't stop the angerthat was raging within.He felt like a manwith a gun by his side.He really didn't carethat his friend had died.Cops knock on his door.His mother couldn't believethat the crime they describedwas done by little Steve.When the boy called hometo tell his mother goodbye,he said, "Before I go to jail,I think I rather die."Like an animal in the junglehe'll have to run and hide.Now, his mother wonderswhat happened to her perfect child.

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HOPELESSNESSThe kitchen cabinet was empty,the rent overdue,her children needed new shoes,what was she going to do?Her face was tired and wearyfrom fighting through the years;her heart ached inside her,as she fought back her tears.She felt like such a failurewith no food to eat,while looking at the ragged shoeson her children's feet.The hopelessness and despairshe felt deep inside,couldn't drown out the soundof her babies when they cried.

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in search of a song vol. 536

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