It’s not the
world’s fault. For years, millions upon millions of years
It has been giving
its secrets away. You thought you understood; you
Naively believed you
had it all figured out. So you quit digging, one
Day just threw away
the spade and moved on. How were you to know
That all along there
were precious metals buried beneath your feet? You
Had always been
enamored with shiny objects scattered randomly across
The ground. For a
while you were content, but then one day your next
Door neighbor
strikes gold in his back yard. And he always seemed the
Simple, kind of
scruffy, unsophisticated, ordinary sort, no one special—
Drives a rusted-out,
used car, and wears a friggin’ Timex watch to tell
Time. What were the
odds he would strike it rich, and right next door to
You all that time?
Let’s not mince words—call it envy or luck of the draw.
It’s not the
world’s fault. For years you payed attention, believed the keys
To the kingdom were
well within your reach. And now this, your neighbor?
Now, where in hell
is that damn spade you threw away?
Chris Hanch 1-18-17
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