With melancholy faces, they watch
Eyes soft, howling
Forever open.
Waiting for fate to appear.

Never expecting
Never envious
Never scornful
Only pitiful, as they look above at the others
The good ones.

Though time and breathe are undeserved
Time and breathe reward the good ones.
Not for content, but for the cloak shrouded about it.
The same cloak willingly abandoned by the bad ones.
The act that makes the bad ones better.

They are better because they know.
They know their badness.
They embrace it.
It’s the good ones that don’t always do.