I met a man walking, on a long dusty road; he seemed to be burdened, with life's heavy load.
His hair was kind of shaggy, he'd been sleeping in his clothes; his shoes were old and weathered, not pretty, heaven knows.
I said, "hello Sir, how do you do"; he looked at me and said, "how'd do".
I said, "Where are you going, on this hot sunny day"; he said, "I'm looking for heaven, and leave here I pray".
I said, "Come on now, don't be a fool"; he said, "This world is just too cruel".
I said, "Please explain your reasons to die; before you leave this world and say good-by".
Then he said, "I'll tell you and maybe you'll see; but promise me that you won't judge me".
Promise me that you won't condemn; cause you just don't know, the condition I'm in.
You won't know me, or understand my blues; until you have walked awhile in my shoes.
Until you have read every line in my face; until you have stood awhile in my place.
You won't know me, until you have carried my load; and struggled along this old dusty road.
Until you have felt, my pain and rejection; and felt my sorrow, and felt my affliction.
He said, "I was born into dire poverty; as rough a life, as ever can be".
My dad ran away, and my mother was cruel; and everyone else, called me the fool.
I wandered the streets, when I was only nine; getting into trouble and wasting my time.
I've been in many jails, throughout the years; had a lot of heartache, shed a lot of tears.
I've felt cold eyes, staring at me; by upper class people, and high society.
I've met people who won't, give me the time of day; who went into a big fine church, and kneeled down to pray.
I've been cheated out of money, by everyone I've known; I've been hated and despised, down to the bone.
I've felt hatred as cold, as an ice house floor; from total strangers, that never met me before.
My whole life has been, filled with pain; sometimes I wonder, if I'm insane.
But if I am, out of my mind; why am I hated, most of the time.
Don't people have compassion on the mentally ill; or be concerned, as to how do they feel.
Don't misunderstand me, I've done wrong too; I'm not perfect, but neither are you.
People have tricked me, and slandered my name; and talked behind my back, then smiled just the same.
I'm weary and tired, of life's heavy load; not too many more days, will I walk this old road.
By my outward appearance, I know I'm not much; But how can you judge me, by clothes and the such?
If anyone loved me, or cared at all; they'd give me some help, this burden to haul.
Only God Loves me, this I believe; from this whole world, nothing I receive.
If I were rich, and had plenty of money; everyone would adore me, and call me honey.
But I am quite poor, from my presence they flee; I've heard their cruel whispers, and slanders of me.
He now had stopped speaking, and he looked at my face; I saw a tear on his cheek, leaving it's trace.
I was speechless and astounded, I spoke not a word; he slowly turned, and walked down that old road.
I stood there just thinking, of the man I had met; and suddenly I loved him, my eyes were then wet.
Another human being, I'll never judge nor condemn; cause he may have walked, where I've never been.
How can I judge or condemn any man?; until in his shoes, I walk and I stand.