When Problems Mount
When problems mount
against the summer's morn
hearts break, minds and souls torn.
How can the world's fold count
stability, sureness of psyche, 'round
which peace and joy are born?
Anger and frustration: humanity's thorn
rises, rumbles 'gainst community's fount.
Breathe, breathe, and breathe again
makes for heart's rest and help.
Blame not central in the cause;
seeing humanity infallible stirs chagrin.
Understanding is the yelp
that makes for sound, steady gauze.
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