Someone who would know
once told me
I would make
a beautiful father,
but that never happened
and it's nobody's fault
but my own.
I could have taken
the kids I never had
to Yellowstone.
Maybe one or two
woulda been et
by bears,
but them's the breaks,
right?
Nobody said
you always get to feed the bears
with something
besides
yourself.
Problem with me,
I always had a
godawful sense of entitlement
but never admitted it.
I figured just being
an American
made me a genius.
Didn't need to work
especially hard for it,
didn't need to join no
feedin' frenzy,
being Einstein
would just come
natural to me
because I rolled
lucky seven.
Just because
I keep rolling
snake eyes
doesn't mean
it still won't
happen.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem