The Healer

Someone told me yesterday
that not all people are the same
it occurred to me that they were right
that sometimes we will fight or flight

But someone told me just today
that everyone thinks this way
so does that make us all the same
or do our minds play this game?

Someone said when I was young
things I say can't be undone
I should have listened to their words
But now I know these things I've heard.

Everything they've said to me
isn't passe or old history
They were wise to help me out
And in their words there was never doubt

But I still trust with child-like grace
Which everyone sees upon my face
My wide brown eyes that pull you in
tempting you to tell me your every sin

So I've been told so many things
they're weighing me down like metal rings
I'm bearing all of these people's hearts
but I'm the healer, I hold your marks.