So many things to consider
when I sit down to eat my dinner...
I live in a house I call my own
even though it belongs to the bank
and I just live here on loan.
The table at which I sit,
first came to the family
when my Grandfather purchased it.
As a boy, I ate here and studied,
celebrated birthdays with my buddies.
Now it sits in the bank’s dining room.
I still eat my meals here,
but the table will be someone else’s
when I take to my tomb.
These children too,
I say they are mine
but soon enough they will be on their own,
just a matter of time.
I could become fearful while thinking these thoughts,
wondering if life has meaning or whether it ought
to be enough to be grateful
and feel like a winner
because I’ve been given