By James Strauss

The harshness of life incarnate,
Beaten dogs have more to say,
But I remain unborn to wait,
My thoughts here will go away.


Unreborn at the master’s gate,
I wait for my worth’s assay,
Thinking and feeling insensate,
But knowing tomorrow’s today.


Plunging down from on high,
To be a peasant once more,
I want to live in the sky,
Yet earth centers my core.


What have I done to deserve,
Those sins that keep me so low,
Living my life in reserve,
Pulling like oxen so slow.


You’ll fix it this time around,
The master smiles with a groan,
Assigns me back to the ground,
Tossing no gift just a bone.


I forget it all during my fall,
The planet below grows again,
It’s human life after all,
I’ll try not to be what I’ve been.