One's a doctor, one's a nurse,
both are focused, both diverse.
They work hard for common good
and always did the best they could.
But who will listen to my cry?
Oh say, dear Jesus, who am I?
Now politics is quite a fight,
one is left-wing, one is right.
Deception knows each shifty smile
and bribing voters seems worthwhile.
But who will listen to my cry?
Oh say, dear Jesus, who am I?
One's in business, one is not
one's paid little, one a lot.
Now they have bills to pay, of course -
and money is a driving force.
But who will listen to my cry?
Oh say, dear Jesus, who am I?
One's a pastor, one's a priest -
one's out west and one's out east.
They're on TV with caring looks
while selling DVD's and books.
But who will listen to my cries?
Oh say, dear Jesus, who am I?
One is sick and one is broke
and one is mute when something's spoke.
Now these are me, myself and I.
"Please listen, Jesus, to my cry!
Oh, answer Jesus, if you please..."
He promptly said, "The least of these."
His words had flowed as if in rhyme,
for He had spoken one more time.
"Now when you cry but no one hears,
just pray to me. I'll dry your tears.
For you're the branch and I'm the vine,
you bear good fruit because you're mine."
©2013 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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John 15:5 (NASB)
"I am the vine, you are the branches;
he who abides in Me and I in him, he bears much fruit,
for apart from Me you can do nothing."
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