Footnote of Life

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Life
This is what I see
Frustration
Beating and
Sorrow
You can judge me now
It’s okay
Because I’ve seen it
In ways not
Of everybody else
Does
Feels about it
I’m not the only one
I could name few
On my finger
While I tongue the last drop
Of my tea
Already cold and bitter
Here on my window
That faces the desert
Attempting to observed
A last plight of migrating flock
Avoiding electric lightning
That forked down the sand
I see it as not defeat
Perhaps
A chance
Like a last train ticket trip
At deserted night
A last card we throw
With a cross finger beneath
Our trouser
Or rolling a dice on our calloused hand
With the raw raw raw circling sound
In a wooden table
Bit our lips hard
And
We just get lost interest
Of living
In a corner
Getting tired
resting one hand
On the chin
Thinking more
About life
It’s insecurity over death
Bewildering
About how life had its claw
That not everyone
Might
Won a lottery
Some of us came in like fart
Poor with old pants and ripped
Shirt with a drunkard father
Beating them every night
Some got lucky
He had everything
Only he had
silver spoon
Dangled in his sorry ass

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