As I sat on the platform
Waiting for my train
Puddles like huge lakes
Made by lashing rain.
I looked up and I saw you,
Coat ragged and torn.
Whisky bottle in your hand
Started drinking in the morn.
Lost love, lost life.
Losing all your money
Losing kids and your wife.
Finding comfort in the bottle
And the voices in your head,
Begging on the platform,
Although your spirit's dead.
Eyes are so empty
Hiding so much pain.
Wishing you could go back
And start your life again.
Heart filled with bitterness
So much pain in your soul,
No money to your name,
You cannot claim the dole.
Lost love, lost life.
Losing all your money
Losing kids and your wife.
Finding comfort in the bottle
And the voices in your head,
Begging on the platform,
Although your spirit's dead.
People will not go near you,
They think you are a stain
On their cosy, comfortable lives
To them you are a bane.
They do not know your past
You had a job and a wife,
A big house in the country
And a very rich life.
Lost love, lost life.
Losing all your money
Losing kids and your wife.
Finding comfort in the bottle
And the voices in your head,
Begging on the platform,
Although your spirit's dead.
You may not be the man I knew,
Your heart is filled with pain.
You may feel lost and empty
As you sit there in the rain.
But love is something you can find
It isn't totally lost
The greatest love which can be found
Is at the foot of the cross.
Great life, great love.
Ruler of the nations
Came to earth from heaven above.
He lived a life of poverty,
Had no pillow for His head.
He sat with social outcasts
By compassion He was led.
© Carolyn Davison 10th August 2013
Greater love has no one than this, than to lay down one’s life for his friends. (John 15:13)
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