Help In Need

By James McIntyre

A poor man’s horse it ran away,
Soon man upon the roadside lay,
With his leg all badly broken,
Of sympathy some gave token.

One said your trouble grieves my heart,
But with his money would not part,
Another said, while heaving sighs,
It brings the tears into mine eyes.

But a good true hearted man,
His heart with kindness it o’er ran,
The poorest man among the three,
A pound he did contribute free.

Others gave in empty feeling,
But this poor man he did bring healing,
The giver only Lord doth prize,
Who helps afflicted for to rise.

Dear Black Child - Grace Storm Ad

Dear Black Child - Grace Storm Ad x
Dear Black Child - Grace Storm Ad
LEVEL UP!
Drop your email and we'll send you 25 poetry editing guidelines to help transform your creative writing!
Send It!
LEVEL UP!
Drop your email and we'll send you 25 poetry editing guidelines to help transform your creative writing!
Send It!
Subscribe To: State Of The Arts Magazine
Privacy Policy: This information will never be shared with third parties.
Subscribe Now!
Subscribe To: State Of The Arts Magazine
Privacy Policy: This information will never be shared with third parties.
Subscribe Now!