You never stood in that man’s shoes.Or saw things through his eyes,Or stood and watched with helpless hands.While the heart inside you dies,So help your brother along the way No matter where he starts,.For the same god that made you made him too.these men with broken hearts.
Human touch. Our first form of communication. Safety, security, comfort, all in the gentle caress of a finger. Or the brush of lips on a soft cheek. It connects us when we're happy, bolsters us in times of fear, excites us in times of passion and love. We need that touch from the one we love, almost as much as we need air to breathe. But I never u