Friday, November 17, 2017

It could’ve been me

Four women,
And a girl barely ten,
Scavenged for the leftovers,
Behind the butcher’s shop,
While I paid for the choicest cuts;
With banknotes, crisp and new.

It could’ve been me,
On the other side.
And for them,
Just another hot summer’s day.
While I gathered my heaven
In a ragged jute sack.

I saw a mother,
And her little child,
Wait to gather the milk,
Spilled over in the crate,
While the milk van unloaded.
And I bought an ice-cream tub.

It could have been me,
On the other side.
Facing hell each day,
While they prayed,
To keep them safe,
Till Thy kingdom come.

Didn’t pick my birth,
Couldn’t twist my fate,
Predict my health,
Or dodge all baits,
What this life gives,
We take. We make.

Yeah, it could’ve been me,
And it could’ve been you.
The privileged few
Feeling entitled to
The cards that we’ve been dealt;
Acting as if we know our bets!

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