What is it that we do?
What is it that we don’t?
It seems we would rather wallow in dirt
How we are uncaring although the hurt
Our morals have been to long in the garbage
Not to feel it, but to only see the carnage
Display a word or picture of hate
Only to outweigh a volume of what is great
How sad in life we hear the twisted stories
And in death we learn of the true glory
Not many have graced this world of despair
With love and tenderness, someone does care
Why can’t the hate mongers be the ones taken away
Instead of the cherished, gone before their last say
Moreover to live amongst the stiff
And still be blessed with loves special gift
What is it that we do, we encourage the external dirt
What is it that we don’t, embrace those with eternal hurt
Let us live for the day when a picture of giving
Is more wanted than a picture of grieving.
In His Service:
© Bryan A. Stross July 23, 2008 5:00 AM EST
Wish You Were Here
God Bless and Protect you and all your travels
The Book of Job
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