Oct 11, 2018
3:39 am
We are here because we choose to be,
Not because we’re meant to.
Our very being is rooted
In improbable odds that cannot be explained
By anything but chance.
We must live with the hands that we are dealt,
Gambling that maybe one of our cards
Will keep us from folding.
There are few winners in this game,
And quite often we lose -
Over and over again until we forget
What it feels like to get instead of give.
And what begins as the hope
That we are not the many, but the few,
Is replaced with a silent resignation of indifference.
When you have nothing left to lost,
When you’re betting against the impossible,
The only way out
Is to stop playing.
