I’ve scribbled some poems and want to share them in their raw format. Why is it so hard to do the right thing? To lock
When despair for the world grows in me and I wake in the night at the least sound in fear of what my life and
“The earth and they who dwell thereon Belong unto the Lord, — From His own hand all things have come According to his word. All
“Oh Lord, how greatly they are blest Who put their trust in Thee! Thou givest unto them the best Of mercies full and free.
“Lord, help thine own, we humbly cry, For evil doth abound, And sin and vanity and pride On every side are found. Look down
A poem by Walt Whitman brings to our attention the oppression, ill-treatment, and cruelties that people inflict on each other. The narrator acknowledges the sufferings