He was this great guy who had a zeal for life; With money for everything he had it all figured out; He paid his bills, wrote checks and checked out as he carried his weight around; When I was young, he crossed my mind quite often mainly because he was the guy I was supposed to be when I was older!
Fast forward past my favored years; I’ve shed more tears than I can glare; I have more than enough baggage to spare; more than enough heartache to share and I still long for a place to belong cos I know that I know enough to know that I care but I often pretend to be;
Then I see my peers brag about the millions they got, I figure that it’s supposed to make me cold cos it appears that what they got is a lot more appealing than what I’ve got; So I find it ironic that we still meet in this game of life chasing a hundred more; So if what they got still doesn’t bring satisfaction then I’m left wondering what the point of this running?
I’ve never been afraid to get my hands dirty and as a matter of fact I work as hard as any other man; yet it seems like the holes on my fishing net are abnormal cos I find myself questioning God; Why do I feel right in my lies yet I know the truth?
Although I feel like another rider trapped within the troops, I just had a meeting with God and I confessed my sins and I promised to work on my faith; I’ve been wrong before but I pray that this time I’m on the right track; so if I die tonight, I pray to God that my time is right;