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Now, why are
you giving up all that you have,
For something that's not worth a cent?
And why are you feeling that you have to pay,
When you should, instead, pay the rent?
And why
are you feeling a small tinge of guilt,
While others turning away?
And why are you feeling that you have to give,
While most are refusing to pay?
A shekel,
a dollar, a token, a cent,
A fortune, a penny, a mint,
Whatever you have, they will take it from you,
Both folding and that with a glint.
You give
what you have and you do what you can,
And still they say you must do more,
And then, before you have a chance to respond,
You give all that you have in store.
Yet money
thrown madly won't do a damn thing,
If those who receive won't behave,
And though you may give all the money you have,
It still doesn't mean they'll be saved.
For
money's a trinket, a cold thing to give,
When mostly they need a good friend,
To share in the good times, support in the bad,
To honour, protect and defend.
Your
wealth is a symbol, that's all that it is,
But love is a door to your soul,
So give of your time and a bit of yourself,
And you and the world will be whole.
by David Ronald Bruce Pekrul
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