People rarely appreciate something when they didn't work for it.
The morning sun rises glistening into your window
awakening your prideful soul. Your wife lay asleep
resembling a beautiful white angel; pure as the
color itself. You take hold of your briefcase and
head out the door, ignoring your children as you
shut the door in their faces. Their smiles fall and
they beg for their daddy, but you're already down
the block. Your most prized possession; your baby
blue Porsche, steals all your attention they say. You
speed past a bum and throw your trash out the window,
hitting him square in the face. Your laugh is hyenic; your
eyes wild and blaring. Your middle finger dances in the air.
The old man smiles and shrugs his shoulders because
he doesn't need money or power to feel free. You see,
nobody knows except you and that bum, but once, long ago,
it was you. Panhandling and begging. Bankrupt and filthy.
Clothes tattered and worn. You were lost without a home
or a dollar to your name. But then, it was him who won the
mega millions on a whim. You just couldn't resist, could you?
You felt entitled, I guess. Enough to stole his future and
make it your own. Now you walk around with a smug little
face and feeling superior to all. But what would have happened
if you didn't steal the one winning ticket from him?