I’ve witnessed the darkness of another’s pain,
And reached out in ways unseen,
My stories inside the door,
My help not something explored,
When those who suffer and are lost,
When my thoughts watching are twisted and tossed,
And burning my heart to its core.
When pockets empty my heart feels the thorns,
The miseries they’ve seen, the lives that are torn,
I open my spirit and give what I can,
Much more than I’d say or speak.
For as He said to those who did listen,
When praying or giving of your store,
Keep it in your heart,
Keep it hidden,
Keep it behind the door.
For grace isn’t what I seek
Nor thanks from people who see,
My gifts are for ones who are those that suffer,
The ones I feel are in need.
And when they ask,
What in this life would you say,
What in life were your deeds,
I’d simply say I gave what I had,
I gave all I could to those lost souls,
The many who begged,
And cried in pain,
The many I saw in need.