Why are there not more stories or songs,
poems or books about jumping,
clapping, and shouting for joy?

Do we have it, anymore?

Mourning becomes so sickening
when it is done day after day.

I do it all the time,
even when I wake up
and I know the world is my oyster.

The curtains open,
and THERE, it is the sun,
radiant…so that I envy it.
Then of course, the sky,
cluttered with singing birds.
And I think time after time
“This is all too beautiful”,
but still sorrows infiltrate my mind.

Some days, I wish me dead
knowing I don’t deserve this all,
not the wonderful house
nor the delicious food,
not the clothes on my back,
and certainly not an eye to see
what’s been given me.

I deserve a broken heart
and a lonely life,
not even!
My soul was first the devil’s
and it belonged to fiery pits.
That’s all I deserve.

Where was my happiness?

BUT today, is a new day.
I can see beauty in everything
because someone paid the price
where I fell short.

If there’s anything I should be,
it is glad…
that I have all that I have.

I’m done with lowered heads
and grieving faces!
Everyone should look up,
they should take a good look around.
What will they see?

…will they see what I see?

Rabi Anata

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/who-heeds/