That
man sitting
on the corner of
the steet, begging
for change—he
was
once a young
boy, playing pretend,
dreaming of his
future and its possibilities.
That girl, with the noose
around her neck, hanging
so quietly—she
was once
a
young girl, getting lost
in a world full of magic,
in love with life.
That teenage boy, drinking
his father's stash of whiskey,
in desperate need to numb
the pain deep within his chest;
there was time when
he promised himself
he would never let it
come to this.
Now look in the mirror,
is this what you pictured
for yourself when you
were naïve and
in love with life?
(DS)
