In the end,
it's just a lottery
and that's when life
reached out and
got at me.
If you run
you can't hide
if you hide
you can't
run,
that is known as
the lottery
conundrum.
And so we take a stab at it
make a mad grab for it,
hold on to its treasure
for what?
pain and pleasure?
not in my lexicon.
Then we're gone
before we know it and
with nothing we have to
show for it and yet
we all reach out to grab
for it.
Sometimes it clings to you
at odd times it sings to you
mostly it brings to you
peace at the end, but
that's part of the
lottery too.
May 2, 2016
May 2, 2016 at 8:20 AM UTC
In the end,
it's just a lottery
and that's when life
reached out and
got at me.
If you run
you can't hide
if you hide
you can't
run,
that is known as
the lottery
conundrum.
And so we take a stab at it
make a mad grab for it,
hold on to its treasure
for what?
pain and pleasure?
not in my lexicon.
Then we're gone
before we know it and
with nothing we have to
show for it and yet
we all reach out to grab
for it.
Sometimes it clings to you
at odd times it sings to you
mostly it brings to you
peace at the end, but
that's part of the
lottery too.
Request permission to use this poem