You see her and you say to yourself, what a shame
She is smelly and she dirty, and drugs are probably to blame
She is lost and alone, not a dime to her name
She talks to herself and her actions are insane
You don't want to rush to judgment, but get there anyway
How in the world did she end up this way
Wondering the streets begging bread all day
If ask to tell her story what would she say
Could she explain how she fell so far
Would she speak of her children, and wonder where they are
Does she remember where she lived, or if she had a car
Did she have any dreams of one day being a star
Can she remember the one who gave her that first hit
Or count how many times since then she tried to quit
Maybe wanted to take a stand but stress made her sit
Did she feel she was a piece of the puzzle that didn't fit
What about family and friends, did they try to help at all
Or did they pull the chair, step back and watch her fall
Could she have had it good and simply dropped the ball
Or did God extend the invitation but she ignored the call
You think she has regrets, you thinks she has fears
You think she spends her cold nights soaked in tears
You think she bears the burden of guilt for wasted years
Did life hit her so hard she could no longer see clear
Whatever we see, there is so much more beyond our view
However we feel, we can't really know what we would do
Where ever we look we'll see there is more than just a few
Whenever you start to judge, remember it could have been you
~Jackie Moore~
10/03/10
