I was told a story not too long ago, about someone starting their life another time, for them it's only one of many, I remember in my mind.
Never having to many bags, they can't count how much they lost over time,
searching again for someone, to pick them up out of their bind.
Always having new stories, their real life they keep a secret every day,
even to those who love and care, for them, the truth they hide away.
They been given so much in their life, always wanting, never doing anything to repay,
it's always someone else's fault, when they are no longer welcome to stay.
Chasing away their best of friends, those they could count on day and night,
some they could have back again, if they would be honest, and try to make things right.
Tom Maxwell © 04/30/05
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem