The Fall Poem by Carolyn Ford Witt

-THE FALL-

On Copple Hill where fluency reins
And all emotion, spiritually drains
Where only money is what matters
No matter how, our life, it shatters.

Where the unidentified spiritually inclined
Are no longer identifiably defined
And in this life all who reside
Are on this speeding roller-coaster ride.

This hollowed out breakable shell
Of all of those who, crumbling, fell
With their lives now striped so bare
Plunged into the depths of our despair.

Now in luxury, they no longer reside,
But they themselves do fearfully hide.
Fear and poverty, make them a bother
As they hide in shame from their Heavenly Father.


Author: Carolyn Ford Witt

By Ms. Caroline


© 2006 Ms. Caroline (All rights reserved)