Waiting for Godot
Days of patient sounds
on creaky stairs,
praying once again
for a favour,
a strong request,
to be considered
among those
with normal living
and happy thoughts
Crying out aloud
pointing fingers,
arguing
enough injustice
has already been done
and repudiation
for God's favorite child
seems an unfair deal
for six years in a row.
Begging with folded hands
to once again
be taken back
to those days
of lucky strikes
and laughing,
when everyone used to say
with a hint of hidden envy,
"How do you always get it right?"
Days of patient sounds
on creaky stairs,
praying once again
for a favour,
a strong request,
to be considered
among those
with normal living
and happy thoughts
Crying out aloud
pointing fingers,
arguing
enough injustice
has already been done
and repudiation
for God's favorite child
seems an unfair deal
for six years in a row.
Begging with folded hands
to once again
be taken back
to those days
of lucky strikes
and laughing,
when everyone used to say
with a hint of hidden envy,
"How do you always get it right?"
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