It is What it Is
Misfortune had herself a field day this year.
Drowned out not by the sound of war nor tears
In a way her perseverance is admirable
Through death, injustice her hunger insatiable
A thousand words to be said about the harm she’s done
But that’s a little lengthy so I’ll stick to just one:
Because at the end of the day, the creation of her has purpose. In light of her disaster, there are things that cannot be done without her. If she was nothing more but menace, she would be gone, rotten away, dusted, ignored. The collateral damage is simply the price that pays her grace.