For us old-Christians, won’t long be our Last Day;
Could be in a few months - or just halfway,
But In our family plots
Will be left vacant spots,
Proof, as Christians, we had been raptured away!
We took our kids to worship. Some did a backslide;
Satan, quite cunning, came across quite bona fide,
And they believed
What he achieved,
Which caused our kids, their kids, and God to collide!
So today, most grand-kids view any recent disaster
A natural event, not warnings by The Master.
They blame global climate change,
Not Biblically ‘end timed’ arrange,
Bottom line – Some offspring won’t be with us forever!
Our g-kids are the generation of apostasy!
Through a dull-dim faith they live in fantasy;
Each has an ipod
In lieu of God,
That they worship with delight and ecstasy!
Tell all the young kids that you know,
That Jesus is their friend – not foe.
So they won’t sink,
While on the brink;
Then, after curtains, they won’t land below!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem