The measure of a man
Is not the color of his skin,
The wealth he possesses,
Or the land that he owns.
You cannot look
Into the ever-changing faces of human existence
And say that one is less
And one is more
Simply because of who they appear to be.
People are not furniture.
A chair is always a chair,
But a child who grew in a broken home
Can heal, and surpass all expectation,
Can become a force that encompasses the world.
The worth of a human soul
Cannot be measured, bought, or changed.
Each life has a value,
Greater than the mind can comprehend
And our differences
Are outweighed by our similarities.
We all have hopes and dreams,
Fears and passions,
Aching regrets, and breathtaking joys.
The potential of the human race is staggering
And it is wasted too often on hurting
Tearing down and destroying
And finding chasms
Where bridges could be.
But there is hope.
For if we can put aside our anger,
If old pains can be released and overcome,
If the lost and the lonely can find solace,
If we can look to tomorrow,
And once again rejoice in living each day,
Then slowly, inevitably, and wonderfully,
The things that make us weakest
Will bring us together
And they will become our greatest strengths.
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