I haven’t
Earned my time
Or anything
Else
For that matter

From defining fate
As an asset
Of success
That’s built
On belief

Like gifts
Which only appear
If God
Himself
Has to offer

What riches
Spoil our answer
Through faith
Not gained
In advance

While damages
Ready their grief
And determine
Pain
Is the payoff

Of a trade
Withstood
Feeling guilty
Sitting idle now
As I must

And dream
No fortune awaits
But an apathy
Learned
Per complacence

Preparing life
For rejection
As these words
Lose pulse
With my heart

Pounding beats
Out of sync
And assuming
Death
Is their privilege

When my mind
Spills truth
Over anguish
Sitting still like rain
Beneath clouds

Stealing breaths
So real
They are deep
As a phrase
Of brief becond chances

Near pools of waste
Growing thickened
By a verse
I’ve shitted
In fear

Along this road
Called relief
Or perhaps
Just fair
Compensation

Where hurt
Unpaid
Keeps insisting
Such terms
Are a valueless debt.

– J. Pigno