Fatigue

I get to be blind, they said.
I get a wheelchair and pills, they said.
I get a long walk, a short drop, a sudden stop, they said.
I’ve seen beaches, ruins, sunsets, moons,
bastards, hookers, bitches, loons,
pretty flowers and broken things,
christmas snow and sunny springs.
Living sucks, and I’ll tell you why,
as you count up all the days gone by,
you find reasons to like living, though it make you cry,
you fight, you struggle, dodge, deal, and die.
Disappointments bundled with satchets of joy,
sweetened and bittered like some trickster gods toy.
I get all these things, they said to me…
a sickness to walk with, ’til I cease to be.

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