This Red is Dead

I once followed in the footsteps
Of Marks, Engels and their kind,
Was committed to the 'betterment of man'
Gladly swallowed all their concepts,
Read all 'red books' I could find--
To 'emancipate the masses' was my plan.

I was full of good intentions,
Sure the 'plebs' would understand
Our philosophy would satisfy their need--
We'd destroy the old conventions,
Class distinctions would be banned,
Rid church and state of the opiate of creed.

From my soap-box all looked rosy,
Eager faces spurred me on
For my message was enticing to their ear;
Way back then they all supposed me
One they could depend upon,
Well informed and charismatic and sincere.

But the gloss showed imperfections,
On the surface cracks appeared--
The 'camaraderie of men' became a sham;
In my times of introspection
Met the hypocrite I feared--
By God's grace I saw the wretched man I am.

None can heal another's eyesight
Whose own vision is impaired,
To be able to assist we first must see;
Should your guide think night is daylight
You'd have reason to be scared--
Dark as night the light that once shone out of me.

But His Light dispelled the darkness,
Changed my outlook on man's needs,
By His truth I see reality anew,
Sin and death in all their starkness
And the remedy decreed;
I thank God--Through Christ He changed my point of view.


Vincent Lyons.

All Wired Up

When we were young we had great fun
We would play outside all day,
We'd jump and skip, play tag or tip
Or go sliding in the hay
And when it rained no one complained
We would play some games indoors,
Were never short of fun-filled sport
And were rarely ever bored.

These days the games are not the same,
Innovation's changed the scene;
The young today most likely play
Interacting with a screen.
Seems strange to me that constantly
All our youth are wired for sound
Their focus fixed on selfie pics
And their minds by gadgets bound.

I'm out of date I hear you state
And time's left me far behind!
I'll have you know though it be so
It's a trouble to my mind--
Could one control through hand consoles
While still waiting in the wings?
Could one unseen behind the screen
Be manipulating things?

Vincent Lyons.