I wait on luck
like a child waiting
for an absent father on a birthday,
who never shows.

Everything I touch
goes stale,
everything I love
leaves,
and finally
everyone I want to be
is dead.

I'm too happy to die
but too bitter too live,
so I find myself waiting,
hoping it arrives,
hoping it exists,
hoping...
luck
isn't just a myth.




© Ernist Lost-his-way