I wrote a poem at this start to Lent.

Holy One, sometimes life just seems to have too many times;
    too many times of violence and dying;
    too many demands and problems;
    too many broken dreams and lives;
    too many wars and fights and arguments;
    too many moments of greed and
sounds of people devouring each other
             like vultures on a dead carcass
;
    too many mountains of unpaid bills
        and valleys of dead ends;
    too many of words used as swords to stab and tear
        leaving hearts shredded
            and souls lacerated;
    too many times of silence
         leaving a bad taste on my tongue.
Sometimes the very air I breathe
surrounds me with fear
        until there is nothing but to inhale pain and 
  exhale confusion.
Too many shadows, Lord,
    too many acts of selfishness,
        acts of cruelty,
            acts of indifference

Or, is it too little?
    too little of compassion;
    too little grace;
    too little rainbows;
    too little of courage,
        of risk taking, of persistence;
    too little of sacrifice;
Too little of music
    and belly-shaking-laughter
        and exuberant, joy-filled celebration?
O God, make me an instrument of your peace.
    Make of me a loaf for these times of hunger,
        some food spiced with grace
            for my human family
                who are starving for hope, peace, joy, and love.
    that, being some nourishment for them,
        I may also be filled
            with hope
                and peace
                    and joy
                        and love.

–Rev. Paul A. Whitlock