Destitute


Oh Chance, Chance's folly
The overcoming weight of anger and frustration
thwarting every chance of a life undisturbed
Undisturbed, yet destitute
Shall I risk the fate I have made for myself?
Swipe, swipe of a card and I am blessed
Not by her presence, nor by the sound of a dear friend's voice
My curse is my ignorance of these valuable,
hand-me-down trinkets
The guilt, the shame, the wretched stigma
They are all mine to bear
But I bear them with joy, with pride, with passion
Above all else, my anger is matched
with my happiness towards her, humanity,
and my friends
Oh Chance, Chance's folly
What a surprising time it's been
in the land of serendipity, good and old

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