Having enough

I see food on my plate, a roof over my head, and pride in my mother’s eyes. But, it will get taken away. I know it will all get taken away.

So, I shake my fist at the boogeyman of misfortune and I scream, “I am not afraid!”

But, I am afraid. Misfortune last struck when I was a wee little boy, but I’m sure it’s still chasing me.

“What will you take next?”, I demand, as I keep running, running towards never having enough.