Like the starved beggar across the street
Better yet the shoe shiner with a limp
More of the over dosed prostitute in a strangers bed
Or the school nerd with no social life
The night watchman with life drained out of him
So lucky are the dead,the finishers of this race
Unlucky are the new borns crying at the ward
When you see a smashed car hit by a lorry
You see injured or dead people,families crying
I see successful people,who have made it
Made it out of this God forsaken world
The injured who almost made it out
Place of arrival,whether heaven or hell
Hell,more of the beggar,shoe shiner,prostitute
Heaven,the school nerd or watchman,I don't know
As for me,I prefer never to be in existence
A fore notion,a pigment of someone's imagination
like to some people God himself
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