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Caring is Not Enough
They fill the room, the words you say ring true,
Yet I looked down at where each of them lands
And glanced footprints that were not made by you.
You don't have the patience the job demands.
Yes, you speak of action, I heard your vow,
But is there one bead of sweat on your brow?
Far away, where the wind beats with its cold
And day unsteadily gives way to night
There lives a spirit, just like you've been told,
That strives to forge onward with all its might.
You should go and take a look for yourself,
Stand by your brothers when the days get rough,
For words at best fill mere books on a shelf.
You mean well, but caring is not enough.
