Is life fair, or is it unjust, A blend of dreams or clouds of dust? It gives with one hand, takes with two, A sky of grey, a patch of blue. For some, the road is smooth and kind, For others, storms that twist and bind. The seeds we plant don’t always grow, Nor yield the fruits we’ve come to know. But fairness may be just a word, A silent song yet to be heard. Life plays its tune, both sweet and sour, In sudden sun or fleeting showers. So do we measure loss and gain, Or learn to trust through joy and pain? For life’s a veil, a hidden line, Its truths obscure, perhaps divine.
