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Its easy to forget the luxuries you don’t consider,
Especially when you wake up bitter,
Trying to better your life,
Butter your strife with a knife,
So that you change effectively change the taste,
Of what’s been cooking in the oven,
You pray that by magic like cauldrons at a witches’ coven,
That things will change,
Eyes wide open, waking up deranged,
Finding no pure happiness you’re suddenly estranged,
From that in life that no one said you were promised,
Like a family, or a house, or a car, yet you vomit,
Self wallowing and following swallowing
All semblance of gratitude,
You have the nerve to get an attitude.
Like like is supposed to spit platitudes,
Then open up at the widest latitude,
And expose a vein of pure gold.
Yet as you continue to get old,
Every day you forget to thank you grow cold,
And your selfishness is allowed to grow bold,
Wake up tomorrow and say thank you for your life,
For your garments,
For the fact your looking at a computer,
The lack of armaments,
Or the presence of guerrilla troopers,
For your ability to walk, talk,
And park your car on the block,
For your living loved ones,
And the lessons of the fallen,
For going outside in the spring and sneezing at the pollen,
For the sun, the moon, and the stars,
No they’re not ours,
But we get to enjoy the celestial shows like meteor showers,
For the powers,
Which make the earth go round,
Coriolis, and gravity which keep your feet to ground,
For health, regardless of your pounds,
For the belief that you can be royalty regardless of your lack of crowns.
Be thankful
Be thankful.
None of this is promised.



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