Should I lend a generous hand
to the man too poor for poison?
Should I give in to his demand
and buy him booze to moisten
his burning soul aflame with grief
o'er the misery his life's become?
Should I finance the cruel thief
that's stolen all but breathing from
this wretched soul who wants to die
or at least to sleep oblivious
to all the world. Should I
show kindness to the devious
addiction binding his poor soul,
or starve it just to punish him
with kind neglect, an empty bowl
of misery filled to the brim?
Tell me, Lord, what should I do
if I wanted to be just like you?
In silence I just walked away.
He'll have to quit just for today.
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