ANOTHER MAN'S SHOES
I met a man walking, on a long dusty road;
he seemed to be burdened, with life's heavy load.
His hair was kind of shaggy, he'd been sleeping in his clothes;
his shoes were old and weathered, not pretty, heaven knows.
I said, "hello Sir, how do you do";
he looked at me and said, "how'd do".
I said, "Where are you going, on this hot sunny day";
he said, "I'm looking for heaven, and leave here I pray".
I said, "Come on now, don't be a fool";
he said, "This world is just too cruel".
I said, "Please explain your reasons to die;
before you leave this world and say good-by".
Then he said, "I'll tell you and maybe you'll see;
but promise me that you won't judge me".
Promise me that you won't condemn;
cause you just don't know, the condition I'm in.
You won't know me, or understand my blues;
until you have walked awhile in my shoes.
Until you have read every line in my face;
until you have stood awhile in my place.
You won't know me, until you have carried my load;
and struggled along this old dusty road.
Until you have felt, my pain and rejection;
and felt my sorrow, and felt my affliction.
He said, "I was born into dire poverty;
as rough a life, as ever can be".
My dad ran away, and my mother was cruel;
and everyone else, called me the fool.
I wandered the streets, when I was only nine;
getting into trouble and wasting my time.
I've been in many jails, throughout the years;
had a lot of heartache, shed a lot of tears.
I've felt cold eyes, staring at me;
by upper class people, and high society.
I've met people who won't, give me the time of day;
who went into a big fine church, and kneeled down to pray.
I've been cheated out of money, by everyone I've known;
I've been hated and despised, down to the bone.
I've felt hatred as cold, as an ice house floor;
from total strangers, that never met me before.
My whole life has been, filled with pain;
sometimes I wonder, if I'm insane.
But if I am, out of my mind;
why am I hated, most of the time.
Don't people have compassion on the mentally ill;
or be concerned, as to how do they feel.
Don't misunderstand me, I've done wrong too;
I'm not perfect, but neither are you.
People have tricked me, and slandered my name;
and talked behind my back, then smiled just the same.
I'm weary and tired, of life's heavy load;
not too many more days, will I walk this old road.
By my outward appearance, I know I'm not much;
But how can you judge me, by clothes and the such?
If anyone loved me, or cared at all;
they'd give me some help, this burden to haul.
Only God Loves me, this I believe;
from this whole world, nothing I receive.
If I were rich, and had plenty of money;
everyone would adore me, and call me honey.
But I am quite poor, from my presence they flee;
I've heard their cruel whispers, and slanders of me.
He now had stopped speaking, and he looked at my face;
I saw a tear on his cheek, leaving it's trace.
I was speechless and astounded, I spoke not a word;
he slowly turned, and walked down that old road.
I stood there just thinking, of the man I had met;
and suddenly I loved him, my eyes were then wet.
Another human being, I'll never judge nor condemn;
cause he may have walked, where I've never been.
How can I judge or condemn any man?;
until in his shoes, I walk and I stand.