Nobody starves to death at the feet of God
Though they kneel in ugly places
Poor and crowded houses
Or in rooms of mental illness.
Their hearts break in their chests
And their eyes are burnt from their skulls
They go mad from discontentment
And die of wonder
But no one starves at the feet of God
They are murdered and chastened
And chased by voices
Run all night
But no one starves at the feet of God
The light is too strong
And the wind is too joyful
And no one dies until he speaks.
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