He’s just like any other man, from the outside. from the inside, he’s an old box, full of hurt, hatred and sadness. The unfair years of his life have left a scar in his eyes, the color is pale and dull, the look is aggressive and hard. no place for kindness.
You can tell the story of his life by looking at his face, deep down inside him and the way he talks, walks and says good morning! you can hear the doubt in the word “good”. nothing sounds right!
You wish you could help him, reach out a hand to him and pick him up off the ground, but he refuses, tries to bite your hand thinking you want to take something away from him. He’s used to be betrayed, ignored, robbed in a way or another.
He’s a pure example of a tortured soul.. of a soul that let years step on it and walk over, a soul that was not aware of what’s happening around so couldn’t turn all that hatred into love. A soul that learned nothing from life except what was taught! Alas!