Poem: With Almost Any Kind of Luck

A poem about privilege

you will probably survive. (Guess what,
if you’re reading this, you’re still here).
I’m still here too (I just wrote this). Which
means I have a similar kind of luck I guess.
We are gonna make it through this day,
and likely the next - and then some weeks,

some months, and even some years. This
kind of luck is here for you and your friends.
There are 24 hours in a day, and even with
the best kind of luck in the world you need
reminders to try to enjoy each and every

hour that passes you by. Many of us
know all that and still barely even
try. We don’t deserve this luck.
Or even any kind.