by Clara Johnson ’26 on November 13, 2025
Portfolio
I’m asked to tell about our morals’ source
We used to tell the story of a man
Who robbed and beaten left bereft of horse
Laid in a ditch, in need of helping hands.
And priests they passed, and all did stay their course
All but one—the Good Samaritan.
And from this tale we take morality
And as a culture, strive to be the priest.
The priest who stood enshrined in gilded robes,
Averted eyes and moved along with haste,
Had not the strength to see beyond his nose,
And swiftly shuffled on. No time to waste!
He had important things in Jericho
And bleeding men are not his job to face.
You cannot argue this is not ideal
To never have to help other people.
So clutch your purse and pearls so nice and tight
When seeing men who have nowhere to sleep.
And please be sure to cultivate the lie
Of “danger” when you’re out on busy streets
Of places stricken with financial plight
By rich men fiending for a spending spree
And when your neighbor begs for you to help,
Make sure they’ve got the cash to treat you well.