You remember that punk with his ripped jeans

Patch covered jacket with that red line of hair

Glued straight up in the middle of his head?

The Jock with his letterman jacket, chugging 

Down those red cups at the local part when

The kid whose stayed up late finishing his 

Homework because he doesn’t have anywhere

Else to be.

The businessmen is a hurry to work, the man 

Cleaning out sewers while the rich man in his

Mercedes drive right over by, the paperboy 

Who hands a man who hides when collection 

Comes around, the woman trying to prove she

Can really be something in a man’s world, the 

Warehouse worker who has been smoking weed

40 years with such a temper at the temps who  

Come in and out because he cannot get a break.

The tattoo artist sitting back creating other

Peoples designs the same old tribal signs from

Head to toe, the writer sitting back in his chair 

Trying to write something he has never heard 

Before but those clichés are just floating in the 

Air, the movie producer working on another 

Remake because his writers have run out of 

Good ideas, these artists swear their work 

Means nothing anymore. 

That same old teenage story, where he thinks

He is at his worst but what he doesn’t understand

Is he doesn’t understand, the breakup that broke

That girl and the tweets of how she is so over him

When she feels lost because she feels no love 

Coming to her, the young man who gets slapped

Around because his Dad doesn’t understand why

His wife would leave him and the wife wonders 

Why anyone would treat him the way he did. 

The Lord looks down on all of them, from every

Man, to the Woman you could barely take the 

Time to acknowledge he stares with his heart 

Wide open at his son and daughters in the middle

Of their faults and he Loves them because his 

Commitment does not dry he pushes on in his 

Creation showing grace to those he may, shining 

His light in every dark situation he is in control

And gives his love.