I Think We Hear A Lot Of

Soon Man Will Count All His Days, And Then Smaller Segments Of The Day, And Then Smaller Still—until The Counting Consumes Him, And The Wonder Of The World He Has Been Given Is Lost.

What About A Man Who Sits Down To Wonder Why Life Has Cheated Him? Thinks About His Situation Hangs His Head And Cries Will We Pretend, His Problems Don't Exist? He's Reaching Out For Help-will We Selfishly Resist? What About Your Brother? He's Crying What About Your Brother? He's Dying What About Your Brother?

I Made The Wrong Choice ," I Whispered. My Mother Shook Her Head. "a Child Should Never Have To Choose.

Happiness In A Tablet. This Is Our World. Prozac. Daxil. Xanax. Billions Are Spent To Advertise Such Drugs. And Billions Are Spent Purchasing Them. You Don't Even Need A Specific Trauma, Just 'general Depression' Is Enough, Or Anxiety, As If Sadness Is As Treatable As The Common Cold.

We All Have Same Beginning (birth), And We Will Have Same Ending (death). So How Different Can We Be?