LIGHT AS A FEATHER

“How does it feel to be a guinea pig?”
A man, he did once say to me.
It was dawn, the sun was rising.
The only ones there were we.

On a sidewalk inside the city,
Like mice inside some maze,
We wandered and hung out,
Stumbling about, as in a daze.

We could not comprehend it,
Although it was clear to see:
We did not plan a life on earth,
But that is what came to be.

“Judge not, lest you be judged.”
One and all are in this together.
As we must carry a heavy load,
Existence is light as a feather.