They say "walk a mile in their shoes"
so you can understand their blues.
But I have traveled all around,
hundreds of shoes upon the ground.

The fisherman in the shack by the sea
who, to a hurricane, lost his family.

The old soldier lying drunk in the gutter,
who saw three wars that still make him shudder.

I've worn hundreds of shoes, two for each mile.
and for every frown, I found a smile.

The young, bright-eyed child in the park,
whose puppy just caught a frisbee with a bark.

The young couple on the couch
tangled together,
knowing through anything they will be forever.

They say "walk a mile in their shoes,"
so you can understand their blues.
But if you "love a mile in their heart"
and you truly learn who they are.

Don't tell a rose how to grow,
And The birds how to chirp.
Don't tell your daughter to be soft,
Don't tell your son how to hurt.

Don't tell the sky what color to bleed,
And a person, the right way to grieve.
Don't try to tame your daughter's tongue,
Don't tell your son the manly ways to love.

Don't tell the wind which way to blow
Or the clouds how hard to rain.  
Don't teach your daughter how to soak,
Don't show your son how to easily reject.

Don't tell the sun to adjust its light
Or the truth how to show itself.
Don't tell your daughter it's feminine to shy,
Don't teach your son how to reign with fists held high.


Don't tell a heart how to beat
Or the mind how not to soar.
Don't clip off your daughter's  wings,
To make them a foundation for your son to grow.

Don't tell a rose how to grow,
Lest it decides to turn its petal into thorns.
Don't tell the birds how to chirp
And have their voices turn into rebellious growls.