When we walk down the street
Do we take notice?
Who we might meet
Do we stop and feel the rain
Or just complain as it soaks our feet
We’d walk barefoot through a monsoon
If only a future saint God might seat
So many bridges never crossed
Crumbled before their even realized
All because our ideas for living
Go stifled down
By the crying of a baby
Or a naked man, a dying hound
The inconvenience realized
The potential ignored
We cannot be bothered
We must not be bored
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