She used to layer her face in make-up,
Until she met a woman, so poor her face
Was caked in dirt, yet there was a smile
On her face and twinkle in her eye,
Because she understood just how lucky
She was to be alive.

He used to spend his checks on Jordans
And Nike Airs, and every other shoe
That looked fly in frame,
Until he met a man with no feet
On the side of the street,
Asking for change so he could eat.
He dropped change in his cup as he walked by,
Wishing he could do more, but his pockets
Were emptied on the diamonds on his feet.

Support the troops were simply words,
Meaningless in their overuse,
Truly understood by the few,
Then she met a vet with PTSD,
Struggling in the street, just wanted
Something to eat,
Wrapped in the blanket he would tuck
Himself into before sleep,
Simply another veteran lost in the street.

Life is not self contained, but rather
A riddle of sorts, With your experiences
Shaping yourself, gaining you perspective,
Clearing up the picture
For a quandary that will never be

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