Sometimes, amongst my thoughts,
I sit pondering how far I\'ve gone.
Well, I guess that\'s not just me, there must be others out there with stories to tell?
Like the time that young boy told me about his fate;
his mother couldn\'t love him,his father full of hate.
Or the woman who lost the woman she was.
She became this deadened tree; black inside.
Still beautiful, but stone cold she seemed to me.
There was a man I knew, who gambled in the game
He risked his neck to win redemption,
To find happiness, his life was never the same.
Wife left, children gone, living with regret, just a bridge jump away.
He decided to suffer instead.
He became high as a kite.
\"Hood-rat\" living inside his head.
All of them stumbled upon a change.
Walking down the streets all crazy and deranged!
Sad souls they were when we first met,
Now they walk a different path, one of peace and contentment.
I don\'t tell their stories to exploit their mistakes,
Mistakes aren\'t meant to be kept a secret,
their meant to be shared so others can benefit.
We need more people to be open about their past.
Past can bring hope from the history, the kind of hope that lasts.
Lasting tales make life interesting. Couldn\'t we all use one?
I certainly could.
It\'s not only good
to listen, but good to really dive deep.
Know that person\'s heart and see what you can see!