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Friday, April 12, 2013

The Farmer ...etc...

The world was sick
So the Farmer thought
As he bought some seeds
With little money he brought.
They charged him more
than the bag was worth
He narrowed his eyes
Rubbed his hands on his shirt
He knew down inside
that his labor was true
and some great divinity
was bound to show through-
Through the seeds in the soil
If he prayed for the rain
That God's natural furrow
Would bring justice to pain.

The world is sick
He thought on some more
When he took his spare change
And left the grain store
And passed some children
walking on the street
with holes in their lips
And phones to their cheeks.

The world is so sick
Was all he was thinking
When he took all his change
and instead took to drinking.
He remembered his children
he remembered their strife.
Searching, always searching
For some better life.


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