Why must it hurt;
why must it rain;
why do bees sting;
and people complain?
What’s it about life;
requiring correction;
why do we gravitate,
towards insurrection?
Why do we steal,
what we don’t own;
and why do we lie;
when all truth is known?
Why turn your back;
on the pain of another;
do we not realize,
he is our brother?
Can’t we lift up,
the lost and forgotten;
is it God’s plan,
to have downtrodden?
Why have pride,
over what we’re given?
Because; then to jealosy,
others are driven.
Why do we envy,
another person’s gift?
For its just a temptation,
we won’t have to deal with.
Why must we covet,
a place at the top;
no place but down;
it all has to stop.
Why don’t we love;
to others, be gracious;
the Master above;
says all life is precious.