on son number three as poet

My youngest son the other day had an assignment in school. He had to write a poem. He handed it in with something like, 'Well, I did it.'

Here is the result, I thought it was pretty good, but I am biased of course:

Seeking the Saviour

Men seek their gods with all their heart
As blind lead blind they all depart
On pilgrimage and journey long,
They join the sighing, searching throng.

Toward the ground some fixed their gaze.
"The earth's grass is worth my praise!"
Like vultures watch with hungry eyes,
They stood there to philosophize.

Beside the road some took their place
And mocked the others with sneering face,
"Look not in weeds and dirt for peace,
In our own selves we find release."

And on they plod with patient toil,
In search of God in self or soil.
If they but knew how small the cost
To look upon the true Lord's cross!