To those pacified by pleasure as it dulls the mind,
To the sleeping soul ambition has left far behind.
Whom comfort ushers quietly into the night,
May pain restore your sight.
To those motivated ones who have attained,
To the racing heart that leaves the spirit sore and strained,
Whom thrills consume but leave the crushing debts to pay,
May sorrow change your way.
To those lofty ones with throngs at their command
To the power drunken fool who overplays his hand,
Whom privilege robs the taste of life and makes it bland
May weakness help you stand.
To those trained by hardship and refined by pain
To the stricken one whom sorrow calls upon by name.
Whom pride has overlooked and privilege never came.
The Most High knows the same.