Chance or Fate
Turn one way—
and life spills over itself.
Frogs break water,
rabbits stitch the grass,
cows call the morning in.
Hands reach easy—
berries, apples,
sweetness without asking.
Children run light-footed,
laughter carried on green air,
parents watching—full.
This is the promise,
they say.
This is how it was meant.
***
Turn the corner—
and colour falls away.
Grey ground.
Wood and plastic walls
that do not keep the cold out.
Children cry—not playing now,
but empty.
Mothers count nothing.
Fathers stare at tomorrow
like a threat.
Crows speak here.
Wolves answer.
Bins become harvest.
***
Same earth.
Same sky.
No child chooses
where they arrive.
Light—
or shadow.
Tell me—
is it chance,
or something written
before breath begins?
***
Still—
somewhere between
a hand might reach.
Not to question why—
but to carry
a small piece of light
into the dark.
Apr 6
Apr 6, 2026 at 4:20 AM UTC
Chance or Fate
Turn one way—
and life spills over itself.
Frogs break water,
rabbits stitch the grass,
cows call the morning in.
Hands reach easy—
berries, apples,
sweetness without asking.
Children run light-footed,
laughter carried on green air,
parents watching—full.
This is the promise,
they say.
This is how it was meant.
***
Turn the corner—
and colour falls away.
Grey ground.
Wood and plastic walls
that do not keep the cold out.
Children cry—not playing now,
but empty.
Mothers count nothing.
Fathers stare at tomorrow
like a threat.
Crows speak here.
Wolves answer.
Bins become harvest.
***
Same earth.
Same sky.
No child chooses
where they arrive.
Light—
or shadow.
Tell me—
is it chance,
or something written
before breath begins?
***
Still—
somewhere between
a hand might reach.
Not to question why—
but to carry
a small piece of light
into the dark.
A stark reflection on two worlds sharing the same earth—one filled with light, the other shadowed by hardship. This poem questions fate, chance, and the injustice of beginnings, while holding onto a quiet truth: even in darkness, a small act of light can still reach through.
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