Dirge For The Under Privileged

I used to feel sorry for myself because I had brown eyes, but then I met a woman who had only one brown eye- and who wanted to become a great painter. And what was worse, she could never admit to herself that it was never gonna happen, so to make herself feel better about it she removed me completely from her life. And then I met a man who was born completely, totally blind and he wanted to go back to his home country again, so I gave him my Swiss army knife- even though it was the first and last time I would ever see him, and the first and last Swiss army knife I would ever own; at least with it in his hand, he could feel the firm reality of it, and might remember his time here with a smile, whenever he happened to touch it. Later I met a man with two good feet to stand upon, but because he had no soul- I gave him mine. I only miss it occasionally now, around Christmas time and Easter- The rest of the time, I can scarcely tell it's gone.