Some see their life as a burden

A thing they must regret.

Such a sickness it is

To hate what you have been given.

They walk and talk and laugh all day

No thought to the end drawing near

I take because of this

Their thoughtless enjoyment I can not have

Each one asks at the end of the rope

‘What is next’

I never answer,

For my envy is a curse

They ask why I take from the good and the poor

I take because I can’t have

I can’t have what I take away

This curse I carry is not my scythe

Or even my lonely reap

The curse I carry is envy

Envy for what I can not take

And give to myself.