I was hungry and you formed a humanities club
and you discussed my hunger. Thank you.
I was imprisoned
and you crept off quietly to your chapel
in the cellar to pray for my release.
I was naked
and in your mind you debated
the morality of my appearance.
I was sick
and you knelt and
thanked God for you health.
I was homeless
and you preached to me
of the spiritual shelter of the love of God.
I was lonely
and you left me
alone to pray for me.
You seem so holy;
so close to God.
But I’m still very hungry
and lonely and cold.
So where have your prayers gone?
What have they done?
What does it profit a man to page through his book of prayers when the rest of the world is crying for help?
— M. Lunn, 1,500 Inspirational Quotes and Illustrations
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