I'm starting a blog not because I have an interesting life that I want to share, but because I feel that this is a good place to put random pieces of poetry and prose that I tend to scribble onto paper. Having a blog will allow me to keep all of my writing in one place. Being more inclined towards science and math, I have never been the strongest writer. I just like writing random things when I'm bored in very important classes.
I wrote this a year or two ago and I thought that this would be a fitting poem in light of all the natural disasters that have happened in the past decade. I do not mean to offend anybody.
I'm breathing.
My heart beats.
I can talk.
I can think.
I sleep
eat
drink.
I've made it.
I'm alive.
They are
crushed
burned
frozen
drowned
suffocated
shot
overdosed
poisoned
stabbed
and most of all...
dead.
They are recognized.
They are pitied.
But I am "lucky."
I survived.
I am alive.
They are dead.
But what about me?
True,
I am alive.
I may be
maimed
traumatized
paralyzed
comatose
limbless
blind
mute
deranged
but I am...
alive.
Still,
I feel as if
it is a burden
to be alive.
Tell me again
Am I lucky?
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