The tattered soul
holding the sign
by the interstate,
is somebody's
child,
a person
who had
and still
has dreams,
nobody knows
the hurts
he has
in his
heart,
and people
still kick
him while
he is
down,
flicking
pennies
and giving
him the
bird,
as they
drive
off from
the entrance
ramp,
is this
how people
would like to
be treated?
Sometimes
a handout
is a hand
up,
and hand up
is a
handout
but
when did
God give
you the
authority
to
judge?
You do
not care
to know
this man's
story,
or what
his
need
is,
and when
life gets
bad for
you,
you
wonder
why.
I'm tough as
a diamond
and resilient
as a
cockroach
I've pulled
through
the most
daunting
of times
that begged
me to
quit,
but I
am
a
determined
soul,
a fire
that does
not
burn
out,
the best
things in
life
do
not
come
without
those storms
of adversity
and the
choppy
seas
of
troubling
waters,
you cannot
win
if you
refuse
to
try,
and
tune out
the
disheartening
lies
that
failure
screams
in our
ears,
so get
back on
that
horse
and
win
that
race
in those
hard
times
that
whip
you
This
galaxy
has
no
king
but
billions
of
ambassadors
like trees
in
a million
orchards,
with
potential
to
bloom
and to
bear
the fruit
of
good
will
and
sweet
juicy
kindness,
this galaxy
il like
a
gigantic
Cosmic
pie
that
is
baked
and
eaten
and
baked
again,
with
so
many
bakers
with
endless
mouths
taking
and
hands
baking
In
silmultanius
order
and
confusion
and a
baziillion
recipes
of
disaster
and
just
as
many
that are
wonderful
and some
of
it
is
Cold,
and
some
is
hot,
what
is in
your
recipe
in your
Part
of the
pie?
Is it
love
or
Is it
hate
or
chaos
or
is
it
apathy?
you
my
friend
are
a
baker
too,
this galaxy
is the desires
of many
and the
desires
of
a
few,
the
harmonious
stew
of
cohesiveness
