My eyelids will pull apart because I receive a gift every morning,
It is a gift but it is made of skin, bones and muscles,
Just like me,
With a message I must decode,
Although the note however, I could not read,
Because it is not written.
I wonder to myself, “What could it say?”
Because I, for seventeen years of my life, have pondered,
Because the gift I received is called life,
And the only tool I am able to use is called living.