The Saint

I am very sensitive.   
I am very sweet.   
I avoid stepping on ants,                            
                                   as I walk down the street,     
    and I pat the head                       
                        of every child I meet.                                      
                                               I kiss the inquisitive eyes,
                                                 and rub the little feet.   
For indeed, I am sensitive.   
And indeed I am sweet.              
                   I internalize the pain                                
                                            of everyone's defeat in life.                
                         And I share my bread.                
                         And I share my meat.   
For that's how sensitive I am.   
And that's how sweet.   
I face life without need                       
                                for deception, and conceit.   
I am very sweet.   

I am very sweet.