The Runaway

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I've always felt an overwhelming sense of luck. Here I am, existing, against almost unimaginable odds. The sheer improbability of my being, of any of us being, is staggering. Yet, here we stand, shining brightly in this vast cosmic tapestry. Our very planetary system stands as a testament to our extraordinary fortune. And if that isn't humbling enough, consider the vastness of the black hole in Messier 87, a galaxy 50 million light-years away, its expanse overshadowing our entire galaxy. Is it divine design, sheer chance, or some other elusive force that granted us this existence? I'm eternally grateful to whatever power played a hand. How can one not marvel at the world around us? The birds, animals, plants, and the myriad wonders of both land and sea? Yet, as I reflect, I'm equally astounded by humanity's extremes; the marvels and the madness we are both capable of and often oblivious to. My poetry seeks to encapsulate this wonder, highlighting both our monumental achievements and our stark shortcomings.