Crumbs from the table

crumb

Golden crosses and a silver chalice
Sanctimony at the highest palace
Who will save them who will care
Poor and wretched everywhere
Why should I
Even try?
They won’t even help themselves

They not poor just a lazy lot
Why should I give them what I’ve got
They can work hard, they are able
They can eat crumbs from my table
Why should I
Share my pie
They won’t even help themselves

I worked hard for what I’ve earned
I’m sorry they feel they’ve been burned
I’m no charity and its not my job
Let’s lock away the entire mob
Why should I
Care they die?
They won’t even help themselves

Because gratitude is a natural high
I share my bread with head held high
Go then hide behind your cross
Not sharing love will be your loss
Why should you
Cry or rue
You only care about yourself

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