I left, again, on the next step for my path.
Where I find myself now makes me look back.
Do I regret everyone I've lost on my way?
I won't know 'til the end of these days.

But the new place I'm at is enough to think about:

He's divorced, his wife took the kids.
He drinks and regrets what he never did.
His laugh is like thunder, distant and looming;
his voice's like his television: obscene and booming.

The other man is older, he lives in the study
watches television all day 'til his eyes become ******.
He belittles himself, and has lost the will to live.
If only I could teach him the power to forgive.

I learned he lost his wife and daughter.
One to cancer, the other manslaughter.
Now he drinks from noon 'til morning,
and chain smokes without learning.

But as I stay awake in the evening,
listening to their drunken speaking
I wonder, to myself, rather than deplore:
is this what my life will have in store?