By Mike Murphy
© 2009 All Rights Reserved.
I am the person kicked when down,
that sand in my face is fresh,
like yesterday, it is with me,
moving on, still trying to heal the flesh,
sure I put on a good face,
to hide all of my pain,
but I seek to help others,
self indulgence is not my game,
I reach out with hand in air,
to teach not self gratify,
to spare another in some small way,
some torment as have I,
I ask not for any praise,
only acceptance of my life,
I do for others to feel better myself,
giving is not a sacrifice,
it keeps me strong and going on,
for others to learn is my reward,
if I can help another on this journey,
to mend what for me has somewhat scarred,
who am I, I sometimes ask,
to me I remember well,
maybe some will try to forget,
for me it's living hell,
but I battle on, too strong to quit,
for a loser am not I,
and when I get that sand again,
I can only ask myself why,
I have not lost my way,
for this, I am grateful to realize,
but it saddens me for all I'm worth,
when a friend has gone astray,
who am I, well I am you,
and you are simply I,
we all are just really one,
together or apart, but trying to survive.
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