I am Blessed 

   

There are people who are blind

I can look at myself in the mirror.

And see the tears in my mom’s eyes.

There are people who are deaf.

I can hear the rain fall on my roof top

And the thunderstorm that fills me with terror.

There are people who can’t speak.

I can talk, I can sing.

And I yell, I shout, I scream.

There are people who can’t smell.

I breathe

And I breathe in: the aroma of my favorite delicacy and the cologne that reminds me of somebody.

There are people who can’t walk.

I can dance.

I get pins and needles in my foot.

There are people who don’t have hands

I can join my hands and pray

But my prayers are unheard anyway.

There are people who are insane.

I can think. I muse.

And I wonder

I wonder: Am I still blessed?

Am I luckier any day?

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