As I walked on a brisk fall morning, these words seemed to taunt me:
It always works out.

This was something repeated like a well-intentioned mantra from others.
It always works out.

As I walked, I admired the few colorful leaves still clinging to the trees.
It always works out.

Many of the leaves had fallen and were whirling in the wind.
Still, some remained.
It always works out.

For some who repeat this mantra, it’s true.

Chaos delays longer for some than others.
Some have been lucky enough to dodge it thus far.

For those who it did not work out for, they are not here to refute this senseless claim.
They no longer have a voice to say,
It does not always work out.

To the lives lost from
mudslides,
malevolence,
medical mishaps;
They no longer have a voice to say,
It does not always work out.

Chaos delays longer for some than others.
Some have been lucky enough to dodge it thus far.
It does not always work out.

Many of the leaves had fallen and were whirling in the wind.
Still, some remained.
But soon, the trees will be entirely bare.
It does not always work out.