All People Fail And Succed In The Same Different Way Poem by Real Henry

To be woken by the rising sun
With piercing light into my veins
Thoughts in my mind of so little change
How am I seen by you and us
The praying sobre kid that God would trust
He prays so much more with the girl next door
They're just people
Woken by her rising son
Who touched the nerve and that old raised vain
Wakes to feed the eight mouths she made
Little do they know that she dreams of running away
Yes that woman with a job and eight kids
Still has time to let the needle kiss her skin
They're just people
And to the dealer who sells the drugs
He tells her the lies but he sells her the truth
There is no turning back from the route that you choose
And when he gets home to his family that wait
They all look to the heavens and begin to say grace
They're just people.