I WAS HUNGRY:
and you set going a humanisitc association,
and you discussed my hunger.
Thank you.
I WAS NAKED:
and in your mind you debated
the morality of my appearance.
I WAS SICK:
and you knelt and thanked God
for your health.
I WAS HOMELESS:
and you preached to me
of the spiritual shelter of the love of God.
I WAS LONELY:
and you left me alone
to pray for me.
You seem so holy,
so close to God.
But I am still hungry and lonesome, so cold.
So where have your prayers gone?
What does it profit a man
to page through his book of prayers
when the rest of the world
is crying for his help?
