The winners in life’s lottery often find they have to fight to hold onto their winnings.

 

 

By the fire, late at night

A father told his son

How lucky to be born in such a place

Our clan is far ahead of others

And that we had won

The right to call ourselves the human race

We have the tools that others lack

And skills they do not share

We are the best and will for all of time

Be leaders and inventors

And the best when troubles flare

For us celestial spheres will always chine

We are the winners, you and I

In this life’s lottery

For even though our lives are very hard

The men of future times will know

Us by our pottery

Collecting every precious little shard

Sleep well my son and do not fret

For father will be here

To keep you safe and warm throughout the night

To waken with the sun

For enemies are closely near

I fear tomorrow we will have to fight

 

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