The painful parts,

Childhood catastrophes

Sordid reminders of failure

Fleeting moments

Fill my mind with sad energy

So negative, so polarizing, so –

What can possibly – the will to change.

 

Yet if our lives really matter,

Have a certain purpose speaks

To what, how we decide, where we walk,

Then standing near the end of the pier

Will be a savior, the one to listen,

There will be that last set of eyes suggests

We remember to realize.

 

I used to be a gambler,

Always going for the odds,

The win, the satisfaction, the adrenaline,

I found myself wanting more always,

The Man at the end of the pier

Could turn his back in a heartbeat,

It was there I discovered pain is real.