But what we call our despair is often only the painful eagerness of unfed hope.
But what we call our despair is often only the painful eagerness of unfed hope.
I knew the fountain of the deep
Wells up with living joy, unfed:
Such joys the lonely heart may keep,
And love grow rich with love unwed.
What white man has ever seen me drunk? Who has ever come to me hungry and left me unfed? Who has seen me beat my wives or abuse my children? What law have I broken?
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories