Its my life

… with me Magical I think you are, Pouring from the heights of the seven skies; You rain on the world below, on everything, On me. You hail from the paradise. You have- Blessings, freedom and beauty. God created you, created me; But why hasn’t he given me- Blessings, freedom and beauty? I have nothing… with me. Often I am struggling and sad, Loner I am, around me there’s no lad. I can hear you but not the words- Words of happiness care and love; I see you oh rain drops, though my eyes are filled with tears; I see also that blessed every soul is around me: Are they not sad and lonely? How could they be, for they are so glee! And here I am the unblessed. There is no blessing… with me. We all have the freedom to breathe, to live. Freedom to Think, to feel. I do breathe, live, Speak, think and heal. But not the way I want to, I cannot. For I am entangled in the fine threads that make the minds of my people, My society. Oh you lucky rain! I envy you for You