Last Laugh Poem by Aram Stefanian

I wonder why the hell we were created to walk?
Aren't we likely those fallen angels unlearned to fly?
To express our logical thoughts we have to talk,
Arguing about the absolute truth, yet living a lie.
Like the walking wounded, we put up a last-ditch fight,
Unexperienced gravel-pounders, we aim for the top
Waiting for four-star generals to give us the green light,
Not giving a hoot if one day our lives come to a stop,
Yet cherishing a hope that we can exist in the next world.
Too obstinate and bigheaded to admit that we are sinners;
Even if we're wrong, we want to have the last word.
Bitter about our lot, cuz the last laugh is for winners.