I met a man on the beach last week. He inspired this to pour from my pencil. Thinking of making it a song. What do you think?
"Remember we're all human, we write our stories with what we've got.
Some write in blood, abuse, love or heightened thought.
Some write in money poured into houses; never done,
Step back to see the lack and know the work has never won.
The faces look so different but the heartache's just the same.
The road that's moving forward looks like the one from where we came.
Take your time to speak soft words to a man with empty plans.
You'll see you're not much less the same as you heal with broken hands.
There's a joy in the misery and a patience in the pain,
To tell a man with empty plans the place from where he came.
A burden felt so heavy by broken restless hearts,
One small girl in a tattered world just trying to do her part.
A joy to know my brother, just as wretched filth as me,
Is loved with power gracefully despite his lack to see.
A charge to keep the voice up, a note that offers life,
A sword to cut through mundane days and do away with strife.
To fight the lonely business, to shatter walls and free,
To sing of praise and hope anew in Jesus, is to be."
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