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IT IS NOT MORE THAN THAT
My little boy came to me, crying.
"Mummy, my leg hit the table in the dining".
Then said, "I'm sorry dear, I thank God it's not more than that".
Around noon, I went to the farm to weed.
Behold, most of my ripened crops were none to be seen.
Then I said "Oh my! well, I thank God it's not more than that.
The women are the hills would laugh me to scorn
screaming my name and calling me poor.
Then would I say, "I thank God it's not more than that".
Tired, I laid to rest.
Reminiscing on the things that had occurred, the hatred.
Then I said, "Who knows? It could've been worse than that".
©Sparrow
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