The Hand That Kills, The Hand That Saves Poem by Sandra Feldman

I want to be good
But, I can't,
Says man in every land
And I hunt and I kill,
So often, at will
Causing pain and chagrin
Using Evil as thrill,
Causing mistrust and chill,
Bitter footprints in the sand.

Of what nature do we come
That we're still
Such rotten scum,
After millions we have killed?
I cannot understand
That the Hand
That's used to save
Is the Hand
That could someday
Also be used, to kill.....