The Way I Found My Life Was to Think of Others and Their Hurts

Have you noticed how sad they look

Old or young—they care for none

Each one walks as if alone.

 

Are you alone on this crowded street?

The sound you hear is your heart beat

No one to talk to for you see none.

 

I, too, walked alone, as you do now

Then one day I stood still, by the road

And saw the many, just like me.

 

Blinded by my own ego, I couldn’t see

That I was far better off than many out there.

Others became my concern from then on;

It was no longer me alone.

 

To think of others and...