

Fate, luck and separation
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Fate, luck and separation
What separates me from the voice that cries
For a spare bite of my food?
What separates me from the haggard hand
Trying to appeal to my inner good?
What fate is it that led me here
Instead of a crumbly home on the street?
What luck was it that made me, ME
Instead of someone else living in defeat?
Shouldn’t these be the questions I ask
On days of frustration like these?
Shouldn’t these be my ever reminders
Of countless blessings that do not cease
It’s not that I’m not grateful,
Quite the opposite, it is in fact
But my daily struggle remains empathy
How much to care, how much to pull back
What if, I gently tell myself
I use my empathy to be kind
Because nothing much separates me
From the sick, the hungry, the blind
This awareness is now deep


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