Michael P. Johnson (7th Nov.1943 / New Silksworth / Sunderland Co/Durham England)

Such bitter tears they say I cried
Without a single sound
The wind was cold I almost died
The night that I was found

They found me lying on the ground
The snow was crisp and deep
They wondered why I made no sound
So small and fast asleep

A child abandoned in the street
It seemed I wasn’t planned
Just covered by a flimsy sheet
They failed to understand

Though mute! This life was not unkind
Though deaf! I can’t complain
Though love yet failed, I wasn’t blind
My life was not in vain

Although I tried I’d always fail
I even tried in crime
I thought of God while lost in jail
And found Him just in time

I thought to me He wouldn’t come
A fool who’d tried to die
But there I knew though deaf and dumb
The Lord had heard my cry

I praise my God from deep inside
In Christ I now rejoice
So pleased, my tears I fail to hide
I know He hears my voice

I love to praise my Lord and King
Especially in a crowd
Though no one else can hear me sing
To Christ! My song is loud.