Wonders of Stories

When everything I see makes me want to cry,

I ask myself,

Is there something wrong with the world,

Or don’t hee right things simply repel me?

I see those perfect little families,

Dads and Moms and sweet little babies,

And I wonder how they came to be,

What is the secret ingredient for being a family?

I see the lovers, so true, so in love,

And I wonder how they fight, stumble, fly,

How they spent years and years together

Falling in love and not falling apart.

I see those people who do what they love

And I wonder how on earth did they find that job

When I struggle everyday trying to find my socks

While trying to save up for a future that’ll probably suck.

I see rich kids, living the life with money

And I wonder how different my life would have been

If my family only had what they are enjoying–

Car, house, pools, travels, food, gifts, medicine.

I see success stories of people from rags

Who worked they way up to riches:

Some with hardwork, some with luck,

And I sit here with my dreams and a couple of bucks.

I see things and I wonder

how my story would one day end.

But I hope, more than anything else,

that my story –whatever it’ll be — 

would be a source of strength, and not of envy.

– H.



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