We sit on a perch we’ve built for ourselves,
Constructed of hopes and fears and dreams;
Many live with fear, leaving hope on a shelf,
But our life is not always as it seems.
Looking down at the world we scream and cry,
Then to escape the hurt, the dread, or the bland;
We sing songs about believing we can fly,
Yet do we weep for others or lend a hand?
Then from our perch we see bits of light,
Some kindness that catches us by surprise;
Might peace and love be worth the fight,
Shall we keep hoping before everyone dies?
He told us the poor we will have always,
And in man selfishness long will reign;
But merely striving for what we long for and praise,
Is worth the effort regardless of the gain.