A weary mother sits at the table with her head in her hands.
Her children play on the floor,
Naive, not realizing what they will miss,
What they will never have.
She can give them all the love in the world
But she knows she can’t afford the life she had always imagined for them.
She stares at the piles of bills thinking,
A young girl sits in her room
With tears in her eyes and bruises on her arms.
She can’t understand what she’s done,
Why this wrath has been brought upon her.
There’s no one to answer as she whispers,
A pale, weak man lays on his death bed,
Forced to look into the eyes of a family he can no longer support,
A family who he has been torn away from,
Kidnapped at the hand of that horrible disease.
As their tears are shed for him he pleads,
So now I sit and ponder:
Why have I been so blessed while so many suffer?
What have I done to deserve this life
While the lives of so many wonderful people are so awful?
Why can I have sweet dreams in a comfortable bed
While so many others dream of simply having a bed?
I truly don’t know,
And I have given up on looking for the answer.
I have realized it really doesn’t matter.
With this life I have been so generously given,
I will generously give to others what I do not deserve.
I haven’t earned a life like this.
And they haven’t earned a life like that.
So I will wake up each day, remember I am blessed,
And try to cure them of just a little of their distress.
Because after all,