First we feel the sting of strife
by Floyd A. Balman
In slapping forth the breath of life.
And so it's been a thousand years,
All enter in a stream of tears.
Yet through these tears of infant sorrow
Begins the scene of our tomorrow.
For each there is a different plan
In breadth of view and living span.
No matter how we earn our keep
Or where we lay ourselves to sleep
We share a hope to be engrossed
In those pursuits we cherish most.
For me, the friends along the way
Have kept a brightness in my day,
and I shall cherish to the end
That you're my brother and a friend.