I've been told that's no way to live,
When you put the needs of others,
Ahead of your own slighted tricks.
All this world's luck favors the wolverine
The callous, not the meek.
People who feed on the downfall of others,
Brother, people like me.
But when our contrived fabric of time faulters,
An angel will say as he tears down the seam
That I worked too hard on everything
To miss so much in between.
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