Someone asked me today what I enjoy
It’s not a question I’m used to being asked
I’m not used to thinking of the world as my toy
I’m used to simply doing as I’m tasked
If I could have for myself whatever I like
Could I even put a name to what that was?
A house full of presents, a shiny new bike
Being able to just go, just because?
I know very well what I’d rather not get
Pain, hunger, wet clothes, diphtheria shots
Struggles to pay insurmountable debt
Sleeping in a room full of prisoners on cots
But if I could ask God for a gift all my own
I think that I’d ask Him to leave me alone