Here's to my desire to remember what he left. But, there was no time for sentiment as he took his final breath. I was not too broken to hope for a helping hand, (but) I had to fight to find it. Eight years old is too young to become a man. I left my hope behind me. I was Just another angry kid, growing up without a dad. So I sold my soul for the highest bid, to get the love I never had. Tell me who I am. A kid that turned to the world for identity. I can hardly stand. Trying to find myself, I confined myself. Now I've come to see, it was never "me" I was looking for… It was always Him. It was always Him.
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