The shit that happens

1 human life is so insignificant that it often
makes me laugh when people
get so distraught over
the shit that happens.

1 out of 6 billion and
that is just taking into
account
those that currently reside on this
planet; the total number that ever
have and will
ever is to gigantic to
imagine.

and yet people fret and
worry and
whine and
moan and
get stressed out something fierce
over the shit that happens in
their pathetic lives that are
nothing more than an intake
of breath or the blinking
of an eye
to the universe.

I suppose I can’t blame the
people
though. I
too am guilty of such atrocities.

recently,
the shit that happens has
happened hard on me.
I have been thrown into
the ring
with adversity and
have been severely beaten.
the shit that happens
is my fault, no doubt,
but it has fought dirty,
gouging my eyes and kneeing my nuts,
until now,
I sit here,
and my only solace is this act
of writing a shitty poem and
contemplating suicide for the hundredth
time in as many days.

I don’t feel that I would go
through with it though;
I haven’t the gumption.
it takes gumption, I believe.
it takes the balls to know
that your life is so worthless
and futile that ending
it on your own is
the most noble thing you can do.

yea, the shit that happens
is rough.
all you can hope for is a pot to piss in,
a room to sleep in,
a loaf to eat from,
a pack to smoke from,
and a bottle to drink from.