Poem of Caring

When a feller hasn’t got a cent
And is feelin’ kind of blue,
And the clouds hang thick and dark
And won’t let the sunshine thro’,
It’s a great thing, oh my brethren,
For a feller just to lay
His hand upon your shoulder
In a friendly sort o’ way.

It makes a man feel queerish,
It makes the teardrops start,
And you kind ‘o feel a flutter,
In the region of your heart.
You can’t look up and meet his eye,
You don’t know what to say,
When a hand is on your shoulder
In a friendly sort o’ way.

Oh this world’s a curious compound
With its honey and its gall;
Its cares and bitter crosses,
But a good world after all.
And a good God must have made it,
Least wise that is what I say,
When a hand is on your shoulder
In a friendly sort o’ way.

Author Unknown

“For my yoke is easy and my burden is light” (Matthew 11:30)