Job 30:1-7

“But now those younger than I mock me, Whose fathers I disdained to put with the dogs of my flock. Indeed, what good was the strength of their hands to me? Vigor had perished from them. From want and famine they are gaunt Who gnaw the dry ground by night in waste and desolation, Who pluck mallow by the bushes, And whose food is the root of the broom shrub. They are driven from the community; They shout against them as against a thief, So that they dwell in dreadful valleys, In holes of the earth and of the rocks. Among the bushes they cry out; Under the nettles they are gathered together.