As I sit here eating this meal
I think about the lives I am consuming
The chicken
The milk cow
The lettuce farmer
The poverty stricken
The slain
The abused
The ones I use to earn my living to buy my dishonest bread
The ones I cheat, honestly
The ones who gladly pay me for poison and bad advice
My family members who pay the price for my living
Who am I, LORD
That I should deserve an audience with you?
And who am I that you should feed me
And yet you do so every day
And I find myself nourished in spirit
More than anything
More so than I can comprehend
I find myself so full
That I can want no more
And so full I feel sick
Sick for the lives I am taking
Sick for the lives I am unable to enrich
But this is not my duty.
I cannot enrich.
Only my LORD may do so
And I may be the conduit.
