To all the ones who think they’re mighty
People of status so neat and tidy
It is not the measure you’ve been thinking
That each one gauges the other, winking
Rather look at children you’ve touched
Not with hands or arms and such
But with kind words or emotion
This could be the a secret potion
Which cures the ills of each side included
Surely your wealth will not be diluted
If a child is seen with open eyes
Could mean more than currency buys
Maybe you will alter your fate
Will do no good to hesitate
Make a difference for once or more
Just leave your status at the door
by William Micke
c. 2011
Joseph Writes 