“Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted.”

Crying for wrongs that can never be right
      or for those who have left you alone,
Counting your trespasses, weeping, contrite,
      when the news of the day makes you groan.

Sorrow for evil, lamenting injustice,
     bemoaning the state of mankind,
Earnestly troubled, concerned and nonplussed
     at the mess we are leaving behind.

You are the fortunate, all you who mourn;
     oh, yes, you are the blesséd who grieve.
Though you are stricken, distressed and forlorn,
     Yet your Comforter’s here to relieve.