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Jist Think ©

Margaret Leith Minter
Victoria B.C., Canada
2004

Fin a'thing looks sae hopeless,
an' ye're tired an' feelin' blue,
jist think on a' the ither folk
a lot waur aff than you.

The hostage held for ransom;
the 'lifer' in his cell;
the sodger at the battle-front
gaun through his private hell.

Puir souls wha dinna hae a hame,
nor a crust o' breid tae eat;
the lonely an' forgotten
beggin' pennies in the street.

Folks that canna beat it
an' hae naethin' left in life;
Them wha' live in countries,
that are torn by hate an' strife.

A mither wha' lost her only son,
I've mentioned jist a few;
but ye' see, there's aye somebody,
a lot waur aff than you.


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