The Human Race, A Work in Progress
Time Moves On
With a baby's cry in the night,
A mother attends its needs,
Showing the love and caring,
A watchfulness, she heeds.
In the course of human events,
A brother lends his hands,
Not a matter of a race or creed,
Extended to all the lands.
Our contributions will be remembered,
Forever and a day,
Determined not, how powerful,
But caring, that we display.
When a country has responsibilities,
Its roles to be claimed,
Shouldering them, when not done,
Of much to be ashamed.
In times of war, the reasons clear,
The people should be told,
Democracy and freedoms given,
Insure this for what we hold.
Belief in our caregivers then,
and what each one has to say,
Shows compassion and duty filled,
and not ever to go astray.
Will history show an honorable state,
Its actors so in accord,
What will be on the pages found,
and the books will all record?
This obligatory endowment,
work that may be in need of repair,
Not just for a role playing task,
but in the prevention of despair.
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