I look back at what I
have done -
no smile interrupts
this sight
it is not pride that
cuts through -
it is remorse for
not knowing where
it is headed -
it is guilt for not
starting sooner
it is the graven
responsibility
of it all
filling needs, giving
something more of
yourself than you thought
you had and never truly
knowing if it hits home
how many out there feel
the dark while swimming
through the light? doing
all the right things and
feel the misery for it -
someone place a rose on
the empty bed when I am
no longer there and scatter
the ashes among the stars
some give and others take
it is the way of all things -
predator and prey,
antenna and receiver
saint and soil
I have heard it said that
those who have nothing
never tried, but those who
have nothing tried harder
than those who were handed
everything
there is luck in all things,
luck makes the spark
that sets the fire that
burns the world to quench
the sins of the Almighty
and we are left staggering in
the filth below our feet, trying
to stay upright, searching for
the luck when the luck doesn't
seem to spark
we hobble here and there,
looking for something to start
the blaze, but without fuel, the flames
die low in the mud and are snuffed out
in our time of need
be happy where you are
feel the freedom of never beginning,
never starting in the first place
and watch the darkness
devour the light
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