Nobody I know has a perfect past.
Nobody I know has a perfect present.
All the humans I know expect the future
to be less-then-pristine.
It has taken me decades of effort,
and of living in comfort beyond belief,
for me to reach my present state
of conditional, and cautious, optimism.
As of now, I would be very happy
were I to be sent to Hell
in the handcart of my own creation,
for the benefit of whoever needs me there.
But it seems that now I am ready to go
nobody is willing me to go there.
Having struggled this long
I have to ask myself, yet again,
what more must I do to help them?