A spoiled mixed up brew.
Left to sit to boil hot!
That's what I thought,
Of myself...
A lot!
A life I randomly got.
And not selected.
Not one that was picked,
To witness experiences...
In time I would digest.
And as I grow older,
I am coming to grips with this...
On being 'picked' and 'selected' business.
Realizing a 'randomness' is not the lives we live.
And I am not going to lie...
I do often wonder 'why'?
Since I will admit,
I do test and try my Creator's patience.
In the hopes to be punished...
To pay particular attention,
As to how the Creator goes about...
Inflicting this,
Upon my more aware consciousness!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem