We All Have Tales To Tell

That old man, face weather-beaten, living in a cardboard box, fingerless gloves dressed in rags shivering in the cold brisk air has a story to tell.
So does the girl who has tons of make-up piled on smeared by tears at the Greyhound bus station who can't be more than fifteen in skimpy clothing.
The young mother with the incesssantly crying baby who looks older than her years, and like she has given up hope.
The father and son standing over a grave, placing flowers solemnly.
Everyone, has a story to tell. Even inanimate objects. And if you listen with your heart, you can hear them.
DieKatzeSchreibt DieKatzeSchreibt
Aug 13, 2011