The Value of You

I see a man
With disheveled hair,
A tattoo on his neck,
And a darkened blank stare.

Next to him sits
A woman ’round eighty,
With way too much jewelry;
A rather tawdry old lady.

Next to her is a man
Swept away in his book.
We seem nothing to him,
Barely e’en worth a look.

In walks a lad
With ears full of wires.
His thumbs beat on his phone,
As its lights he admires.

Then there’s a young lady
Dressed nice–prim and proper.
And her nose is turned up,
As if no one could top her.

Then finally there’s me,
Pale and balding, yet vain.
Shuffling ’round in my seat
From my lower-back pain.

Where would we fit
Our values dropped on a line?
Would one of these five
Have value greater than mine?

How do we judge–
By clothes, scars or wit
Who’s value is greater
Exactly where do we sit?

I think it’s quite wrong
By affections so base,
To rank order each other,
And determine one’s place.

Our value’s from God.
Given life from His breath.
None’s lesser to Him
From conception to death.

His rule is to love
Your neighbor and Him
Not to judge one another
By your own fickle whim

We first love the Lord
With heart, mind and soul
And our neighbor as self
Be him saint, wretch or troll.

As you survey your own cast
As God’s called you to do
Remember their worth,
Is the value of you.