This was a sad day   when the disappointment that was my shadow   came into the sun   and he slapped me dull on the forehead   and he told me he had won      so I sink into my gentle home   the streets won't mind if they don't feel my heavy feet today   the bed's inclined to ask me back to stay   but if I stay   if I stay   then I'll    stay      so now I wonder   is there a method to quantify both pain and joy?   does mine hurt as bad as yours does?   does yours feel as good as mine?      and if you live in war   can you still keep score   of the burdens like bodies piled at your door?   and the bodies that lost their chance to be more than bodies   Just bodies      what muffled meaning does it hold    to be told that your story is not the only one?   no, not the first nor the last   not the best not the worst   you are cursed by a regular life