It saddens a bit,
But then a little is all enough
To make the world seem daunting
To make the next day distant and aloof
Because the next day just is not worthy of hope
At least at the present
The threats are there, hanging like a noose
Ready to snap a neck upon the slightest nudging
And with that thought,
The world sucks a little more
Except one person, everyone else was born ready
The heaps of worries are mere mole hills
Yet his seems mountains
To scale empties his soul of the single shred of hope
But then tomorrow shall come
And if alive, he shall still be have last year’s worries
It saddens a little more,
The thought that he may not be alive tomorrow
It saddens,
Because he won’t cry for his own self
But then, even when everything is coated
With a thick layer of hopelessness
Life’s still beautiful
It is. For everything goes on
With or without him. Is he willing to miss out?