This Is A Story Of A Free Man, This Is A Story Of

A concrete bed, a weathered awning made of cardboard that keeps the
morning sun from his eyes.
He never knew much about why his life became so hard.
Sleep one night under this bridge in this man’s shoes, and you’ll
learn there is no god.
Lets go back to the early days.
When life read just like a blissful page, in a book with a happy ending, even if that means
were just pretending.
Before everything this kid knew as unbroken.
Became nothing but a state of insecurity. In the early days he lived life with his
eyes un-open, conditioned to always go quietly.
One day his father went off to war.
To fight a war for something that’s not worth fighting for.
A forceful pry at his eyes to see a beautiful world has been taken from you and me.
“This is killing me,” he said to his mother.
“Is this the true face of humanity?” he said to his mother.
“The weight of this has got me on my knees,” he said
with no response from his mother.
The boy was scared now.
He got the silent treatment from a person he confided in.
No longer sure where to turn, he jumps right into a new life of uncontrolled rage and depression.
He embraces addiction to numb his new affliction.
“I miss my father,” He thought to himself.

Dad came home in a body bag.
He never had a chance to say goodbye.
He was a good man – fooled to believe in a fake ideal
His veins soon pulsed with dissent from what he had learned right before he died.
The cold reality of the rich sending the poor off to fight a war for the corporate whores.
“Will we ever see an end to this?” he said.
Still stuck with addiction, he numbs his mind.
He wants to return to the time when he was young and blind.
“Will we ever see an end to this?” he said.
He knew life would never be the same from here on out.
He felt those storms coming in with those dark approaching clouds.
“Will we ever see an end to this?” he said.
He’s homeless now.
He throws his mind away and struggles with thoughts of suicide at the end of days.
He wants to see the end of this.
This is the beginning of his concrete bed under a bridge.
“This is rock bottom. I can only go up from here.
I’m looking ahead, and I think I’m ready to face what I’ve always feared.”
He screams out at the metropolis in front of him.
This is where he learns to sink or swim.
He turns to face a monster in front of him that is the epitome of limiting.
He takes the needle from his bed side, gives it a look for the last time.
It’s the last time…

“I’m walking away from this,” he said with conviction.
He walked away a new man…
This is the story of a free man.

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