Nationality

charity begins at home

I have grown past hate and bitterness,
I see the world as one;
But though I can no longer hate,
My son is still my son.

All men at God's round table sit,
and all men must be fed;
But this loaf in my hand,
This loaf is my son's bread.

by Mary Gilmore

Author's Note

This is a poem by Mary Gilmore

Reviews

[Gee]

Charity starts, begins at home. Would be nice if we all took care of our own, especially the elderly, then looked to widen the net.

[Phil Roberts]

A very logical outlook, though it would be nice to be able to share a little.