The things I've done have hurt someone.
The things I've done are wrong.
There are so many thing that I did.
Not only to you.
They've gone on for too long.

I've taken the love I had,
And killed it in the worst of ways.
Now all I have left are the memories from when we went to the beach every weekend with our family.
Now I can't see them without realizing how unhappy I was.
How unhappy I am now.

I do things every day to atone for them.
My sins that I let control my life.
A homeless man begged me for money when he didn't have to.
He could have just looked at me, and I would have known by the look in his eyes that we shared the same scars.
I gave him twenty dollars in the hopes he could get to work every day.
Did I care if it was true? If he could have been telling a lie?

And when it's time to go home, and I walk slowly and say goodbye to my friends. I hear people saying the same things I have always heard.
"He's so weird"

Though he gives everything, and smiles. . .

He goes home and cries.
Alone.