Bless the Lucky
Some people are meant to be happy,
I am not one of the lucky.
For I slip through life not unloved,
Yet the greatest tragedy of all,
Is not the absence of belonging,
Though that I still breath
and roam through moments,
Instead of sleeping in the cold ground
Shielded by maggots and worms,
Coddled by the dirt until forever.
Share This Poem