Please submit
"I'm 54. I'm not young, but I'm not old yet either. I'm just… forgotten. Once, people used to call me by my name. Now it's just "buddy," "bum," "here again." Back then, I carried a briefcase; now I wear a torn jacket. There were meetings in offices — now I only meet the cold. I taught my son how to ride a bicycle. Now I'm learning to stand on my own feet again after another night under the bridge. Yes, I made mistakes. But doesn't everyone want a third? Sometimes I feel like a tree felled, bark cracked... And for a moment, I will be a person again. If only for a moment. Thank you for that moment." PAY PAL [email protected]
