Calloused Hands

I've seen a grown man fall,
To his knees on the ground.
Dirt stained face with calloused hands,
He prayed to one he's forgotten.

With fire in his eyes,
Spitting hasty accusations
To a force he could not control,
As the dew of his soul liquefied.

Screaming in empty passion
Into the blood stained horizon,
Ambition and dreams dissolve,
Drained and lost he rests.

I've seen a boy ask questions,
To the guardians he once had.
Asking what his name was,
Where he began.

With sadness in his face,
Concern in his soul,
Wondering who he was,
Unaware of what he was being told.

Now a teenager kickin' back,
Been lost and alone all his life,
Can't remember what it was like,
Empty and perplexed his questions remain.