Doesn’t everyone have somewhere to breathe,
 a little corner to themselves to question other’s intelligence,
 a room to warm their glowing dreams,
 a gun to blow their superior strength,
 a blanket of envy to unfold,
 those scars to show them the past,
 or a mask to hide them when it still hurts?

Doesn’t everyone have an iron to scold away the tears,
 the neon lights to show a beaming smile,
 a picture that could inspire a thousand more,
 the silent reminder of everything you’ve ever heard?

Doesn’t everyone have the strength of an army in mind,
 a soldier in fight,
 a martyr in soul?

Doesn’t everyone see more than they’ve imagined,
 have the presence of a god,
 share more light than supernovas,
 pray sanity for the sane?

Doesn’t everyone go where only the righteous should travel,
 to places of raw feeling and disbelief,
 to igloos of the warmest love possible,
 to shelters to hide from perfect weather?

Doesn’t everyone build empires for the dying and poor,
 help heal the mindless,
 grow in stature to lead the way?

Doesn’t everyone love someone so much that dreams are impossible,
 think life is impeccable?

Doesn’t everyone live?