Looking at the woods at dusk, I feel a sense of pleasure
A bit of guilt mixed in with glee, my face flushed for good measure.
I look askance reflexively, though no one is around
And feel my happiness is bad, a fact that does astound.
My mind takes in what eyes behold, the pain within the world
The suffering that I cannot help; the stories never told.
My spirit feels afraid to smile when thinking of worlds’ poor
Some ravaged by diseases, some starve besides death’s door.
They seemingly live smile-less lives, their happy thoughts are few
Dark destiny their future as they face each day anew.
How did the world evolve into this fierce and savage place
Where many seem excluded from the sight of God’s good grace.
I smile again, beneath the boughs, life’s fortunes have been kind
I’m blessed with six good senses and a sharp and kenning mind.
Admitting that I do my part, to help those ones in need
I still cannot remove the sight of hands reached out to plead.
If only all my happy times, the joy adorning life
Could just be put in bottles as a remedy for strife.
By James Geehring