Suffering Job by Richard Steiner

O my soul, hear my woes, let the day be gone when I was born, If only then, when life was lent, had I been overlooked... For in the silence of oblivion, none can feel the pain of life, O that I've not known, what the living know, would satisfy my soul just fine... What makes a man, lament his life, and wish he had not been born? Sad suffering, yes suffering, takes the joy from enjoying life, Feel the pain, and Jōb's distain, as he laments his mother's choice, To bear a son, a darling son, to experience the joy of life... What suffering one, has no lament, as pain wreaks havoc upon their life, But poor Jōb, Suffering Jōb, thought for his pain, he had that right... To cry within, is no sin, but to to cry without may sting, The sympathies of company, who come to ease your blight... Who can blame, his deep distress, knowing how he lived his life, To say tis you, who caused this slight, by living a sinful life For how can a man, righteous is he, be punished for doing right, This was the thought, so long ago, we pay for deeds of life! History tells, if told well, of suffering amidst strife, And the loss from war, in truth and lore, Is expected, but is not right, So Jōb laments, till happens next, a friend holds not his peace, And spills his mind, to he suffering, just what he believes!