If before that born to you I were,
knowing what was to transpire
would i to my birth concur,
or balk at my own creation with regret and full of ire?
With each breath i struggle to sustain my life
then each exhalation sucks away that very right
Can I live my life before the thirsty end will begin?
My flesh fraught, crimped as Job's little twin?
Can i live my life SO much
as to count it as a win?
©2010 Eric Fischer
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