If life did not have glitches,
Then
of what would we complain?
There’d
be endless founts of riches
And
no one would be in pain.
All
our nervous tics and twitches,
Since
they all would be in vain,
Would
just vanish, as would itches
And
from kvetching we’d refrain.
Though
this fantasy bewitches,
In
our lives it’s very plain,
We
must cope with all the pitches
Hurled,
which no one can explain.
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