does anyone know why I don’t believe?

because in all the stories good

always has to work too hard

to stand a chance against bad, 

no matter what.



because the numbers are always 

stacked against light,
even if darkness dies in the end.

why is it so hard? why can’t love always

have the advantage, from the very beginning?

isn’t that how we all think 

the world is: basically good?



that’s why I don’t believe:

because there are some people who,

no matter what is done or said to them,

will never appreciate what they are born with.

whether they deserve it or not 

doesn’t matter.

it’s lots of luck, the way I see things.

love, happiness, life: hard work, 

but lots of luck. 

and the first piece of that luck

is being born into a place with free
air, sunshine, birdsong, friends and family.

most have that, some not, but all have

breath in their lungs.


I will never believe in a god

because there are those

who can’t see their luck,

who can’t count to seventy-seven years

and realize how little time they have

to live the life that luck gave them.
if it was god, they would appreciate

what they have. they would be born with it.

like air, sunshine, birdsong, friends and family.