A Brown Bag
On a dark winter’s night as the chill wind blew on a park bench an old man there lay Tattered and torn, tired withered and worn he’d not eaten for more than a day Heartache and fears and much sadness and tears was his life – fate had dealt a poor hand He thought once or twice of the terrible price he’d paid not obeying God’s command Way back in his youth he was taught gospel truth and the Spirit had led him to preach But judging was he – the way things ought to be so instead he decided...
