Having races brings me back to running rainbows
Jumping over dogs and pancakes
Shadows stretching beyond computers
Is it my imagination, or did the grass run home?
We are empty aluminium shining in the snow
This is how we eat 1000 GB of soil and lyrics.
We are not,
yet we are
reaching out to grab the tables

This might not be a poem: more so a realization at most. The complaints I have throughout the day are anything but morose. Walk an hour in another man's shoes, and suddenly life has so much more I could lose. Where could I be in that first step?

I could be standing in the flip flops of a beautiful friend , taking care of four children as a new widow.

I could be in sneakers as the man  selling newspapers in the desert heat day after day.

I could be in a different shoe every day, as a comedian loved by all, who could make everyone laugh, but himself.

I could be in heels in a doctors office, facing the reality of only a few months left.

But I'm not. My shoes are worn, but my heart is not. My days might be long, but my bed is warm. The jobs I work help keep our bills paid and our food plentiful.

I was going to complain today: but when I realized how beautiful today was, I had nothing to say.

Where could you be, in that first step?

Opportunity may knock, but trouble hangs out at the door.