49.  What We Never Had in the First Place

Seek first the Kingdom,

But which one?

Mine or Yours?

I go for the former

Too often than I’d like

to admit, taking bits

And crumbs

From other people’s plates,

Pretending it’s a meal.

But how hungry I am,

Sitting and watching

As my bones go brittle,

My heart goes weak,

And my skin wears

Like an old musty coat–

checked in but never checked out.

And it’s only as I choke

On its dust that I remember

That we are different but the same,

Made by another maker, worn

Down by the hand of man,

The sweat of lost promises,

And loosened at our seams,

Waiting for the everything

That could be ours

If we gave up

What we never

had in the first place.