Experiences

I sit on the edge,

between the comfort of homes

and the rapids of human travel.

Those endowed with cloth on their backs

walk by, unfazed, unaware

of their position.

Unaware of their privilege.

How do they not realise?

How can they not tell?

How?

I sit on the edge of comfort and advancement,

yet I am unable to feel.

Unable to think.

Unable to believe.

I haven’t felt.

I haven’t thought.

I haven’t believed.

Yet still,

I sit here.

Right here.

Existing.

I do not care for life or riches,

happiness, or God.

Yet still,

I am here.

Experiencing life alongside everyone else.

I sit here,

and by simply existing,

just by existing.

I experience wonders and miracles

that I have not wished for.

I experience despair and sorrow

that I have not warranted.

I experience things

just for existing.

What have I done to deserve that?