Give me the heartache and the breathlessness and the ones the world call wasted.
Give me the lowly and the wretched and the ones with hearts like mine.
Show me the outcasts and show me the persevering and show me “trying my best”.
I don’t want successful and I don’t want 20 floors up corner office full of windows.
Give me a story, give me your story and don’t leave anything out.
Give me deceit and give me broken and give me “it’s just not for me”.
Give me ruin and give me the difficult and the “why is it us?”
Show me the dirty and the insecure and the souls that share my pain.
Show me the long lost and show me “at what cost?” so I can follow it up and say:
I never wanted lovely jewels or stable contentment.
I never asked for much, just enough to tell some stories.
But instead of just a pen and a heart full of words, I received so much more than I asked.
Give me your sorrow and your worries and your wonder.
Give me your problems and your anger and your pride.
Give me your doubts and come with open arms.
Fall to your feet and learn to love again.