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Writer's pictureTheresa Baxter

The Human Condition



Condition that is deemed humane

From birth to death, the joy and pain

To feel, to touch, to grasp, to squeeze

To stumble when we should find ease

We think we know, yet fool ourselves

Ignore accounts that fill our shelves

We creatures of such imperfection

That often lack clear self-reflection

Are so inclined to fudge and lie

For scruples seem in short supply

But in adversity we face

We demonstrate such outright grace

When things are difficult and hard

We circle wagons, stand on guard

Our differences lose their guise

We struggle, yes, but still we try

The greatest gift that we’ve been given

Our temperament for optimism

Have faith the sun will shine tomorrow

A trail will break that we may follow

The dark comes light and reassures

That woe may pass and life endures…

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